


What a Fool Believes

by AmyPond45



Series: Behind the Scenes [2]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Bottom Jared Padalecki, Comedy, Crack, Cuddling, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fourth Wall, Happy Ending, J2, M/M, Romance, Schmoop, Season/Series 10, Switching, Top Jensen Ackles, bottom!Jensen, soul-mates, top!Jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:46:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2622281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyPond45/pseuds/AmyPond45
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen Ackles comes back from his time in the Supernatural world a changed man. Surviving a week trying to help Sam Winchester find his brother (and failing miserably!) has given him courage and made him damn grateful to be alive. Even Jensen's contentious co-star notices the difference. Jared and Jensen haven't gotten along for years, but after his adventure Jensen just isn't scared of Jared anymore. Then a near-tragic event changes things between them forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tyomawrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyomawrites/gifts), [roxymissrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxymissrose/gifts), [Exaggerated_Specificity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaggerated_Specificity/gifts).



> This is a sequel to "Should You Ever Leave," which recounts Jensen's time in the Supernatural world. This J2 are based loosely on the characters portrayed in "Behind the Scenes: A Fan's Perspective."
> 
> I never would have written this if not for all the lovely comments encouraging a sequel, so thank you thank you!
> 
> This is my first J2 fic so please please comment!

For a full minute after Jensen opens his eyes, he thinks it didn't work.

He's lying on his back on the bed in Dean's room, and he can still see Sam's face in his mind, can still feel Sam's hand on his shoulder, warm and impossibly real.

Then he hears noise out in the hall -- voices.

"Where is he?"

"I think he feel asleep in Dean's room again."

"Why is he always doing that?"

"I guess it's comfortable. And he's tired. These eighteen-hour days are brutal. We'll just -- "

Jensen waits till they arrive in the doorway, then he grins at them and gives a little wave.

"Hey guys," Jensen greets his PA, Lynn, and the AD for the current episode -- Jack, he thinks, peering up at them blearily.

"Hey -- " Jack waves back, looking a little stunned. He's got a crush on Jensen about a mile wide. It's pretty obvious to everybody, but Jensen's too tired to wink at him.

"They're ready for you in the library," Lynn says.

Then she seems to notice how out-of-it Jensen is and steps forward, worry creasing her already anxious face.

"Are you okay?" she asks solicitously. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

Jensen is not fine. In fact, the ordinary moment in which he's suddenly finding himself is giving him a serious case of the shakes.

 _Shock,_ he thinks wildly. _I'm going into shock._

"Just give me a minute."

He turns onto his side on the bed, pushes himself up facing away from the two crew members, puts a hand to his head to stop the sudden rush of blood, the dizziness. Spots hover in front of his eyes and there's a roaring sound in his head, just behind his eardrums. He's pushing himself up, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, and he can sense the exact moment everything slows down, blackness washes up and over him and he's falling, the floor rushing up to meet him as he collapses.

"Oh my God!"

"Jensen!"

"Somebody call Jeremy -- "

Then he's out.

*

When he comes to, he hears the voices first.

"It's that crazy vegan diet," someone -- maybe Kelly, the makeup girl? -- suggests. "Not enough iron."

"He's thin," somebody else -- Jack. It's Jack this time. "He looks like he's lost weight."

"In the past hour?" That's Guy, the director. "He's only been in here for an hour or so, right? What did you do to him?"

"Me? Nothing," Lynn protests. "I left him alone. He said he needed a little rest, so I let him rest."

She sounds defensive. Jensen really ought to speak up for her. This isn't her fault.

"Did somebody call a doctor?" Guy again, demanding.

"He's on his way," another PA -- Sean -- speaks up timidly.

Then Jensen hears someone else approaching, familiar footsteps, heavy boots, stopping in the doorway --

Jensen feels his heart stop for a minute as the familiar voice speaks.

"What's going on? Why's everybody in here?"

Jensen turns instinctively toward the voice of his co-star, not even fully awake yet -- some part of his brain telling him it's Sam -- the other part, the major part, knows it's Jared.

Jared.

Jensen opens his eyes, looks straight into Jared's frowning gaze, feels his lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile as the familiar warmth of being in Jared's presence rushes through his body and settles in his chest.

Jared holds his gaze for a minute, and Jensen imagines he sees something there -- some spark of concern or care or --

Then Jared flicks his eyes away, his frown deepening.

"What's wrong with him?" he demands, glaring around the room expectantly.

"He passed out," Lynn says.

"It's classic exhaustion," Jack suggests. "He's overworked."

"Yeah, join the club," Kelly huffs under her breath.

"Okay, everybody," Guy claps his hands. "Let's move out and give Jensen some space. We'll take an hour, let the doctor do his thing, then we'll see where we are. Right? Jack, you're with me."

Jensen closes his eyes, more relieved than he wants to admit as the crew reluctantly files out, Lynn patting his shoulder reassuringly as she goes.

Then he's alone. Alone until the doctor comes.

But not.

"Real smooth, asshole," Jared's voice cuts through the fog, startling Jensen into reality again. "You do realize you're pushing back the entire production schedule here with your prima-donna fuckery."

Jensen cracks one eye open, stares up at his co-star, resisting the urge to flinch. Jared is still standing in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the frame with that disgusted look on his face.

 _I know what you look like naked,_ Jensen thinks smugly. _I know what you look like when you come._

It gives him confidence.

"It's all real, Jay," he says quietly.

Jared's frown deepens a notch, if that were possible.

"What's real?" he asks. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The ghosts, the demons, you and me -- Sam and Dean -- everything. It's all real. I was there. I just spent over a week there."

Jared's eyes widen, he uncrosses his arms and shifts his feet, puts his hands on his waist and shakes his head a little, like a dog shaking the water of out its ears. He blinks twice and tilts his head at Jensen, so he's looking at him almost sideways.

"Come again?" he huffs, then shakes his head again. "What the fuck are you saying?"

Jensen gazes steadily at him, both eyes open now but only at half-mast.

He's so tired, so damn tired. He could sleep for a week.

"I don't care if you believe me," Jensen swallows, focuses on getting the words out, making Jared hear him. "It's true."

"Oh my god," Jared breathes softly. "You're -- you're really losing it. It's finally gotten to you." 

He stares at Jensen blankly for another minute, then shakes his head, lifts one hand in a gesture of disbelief and dismissal.

"I can't deal with this right now."

"Jared -- "

Jensen lifts a hand toward his co-star, but it's so heavy, his arm feels like it's buried in concrete.

"What do we have here?"

It's the doctor, crowding past Jared to move into the room, brisk and professional as he sits down on the bed and takes Jensen's wrist, checking for his pulse, pulls his sleeve up so he can take his blood pressure. He sticks a thermometer under his tongue.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Ackles?" he asks as he listens to Jensen's heart with his stethoscope, pushing his over-shirt out of the way.

Jensen winces as the man pushes down on his skin, still a little tender where his new tattoo is still healing.

The doctor notices.

"Huh," he mutters, pulling on Jensen's tee-shirt. "What do we have here? Mind if I take a look?"

Jensen lifts his arms, lets the man push up his tee-shirt so he can see the tattoo.

Jared sucks in a breath.

"Oh my god, is that real?" he gasps.

Jensen looks up at him, hovering over the doctor's shoulder, sudden anxiety rushing through him as he realizes how naked and vulnerable he is right now, his bare chest exposed to Jared's scrutiny as the doctor pokes the skin over his heart.

Jensen closes his eyes, whimpers just a little.

"Does that hurt?" the doctor asks.

Jensen shakes his head, turns away from Jared's intense gaze, burrowing his face against his own up-stretched arm.

"Well, it's fresh, and looks like it's healing all right, but I'll give you a three-day dose of antibiotics just in case," the doctor says matter-of-factly, pulling Jensen's tee-shirt back down, covering him up again.

Thank God.

The doctor pulls the thermometer from Jensen's mouth, checks it.

"Your pulse is pretty fast, heart-beat's a little irregular, blood pressure unusually low, skin seems a little cold and clammy -- Mr. Ackles, did something unusual just happen to you? Because I'd swear you're exhibiting all the symptoms of shock," he stands. "And I'm diagnosing general exhaustion right now, unless you have something specific you can pin this on."

He lifts his eyebrows expectantly, but Jensen just shakes his head a little, closes his eyes against Jared's unflinching stare.

The doctor nods.

"Alright then, I'm recommending bed rest and observation for the next twenty-four hours."

He turns to Jared.

"Somebody should keep an eye on him, make sure he drinks plenty of clear fluids. He should eat something, especially when he takes these pills."

He hands the bottle to Jared like it's the most natural thing in the world, Jared being Jensen's nurse.

As if.

"Oh no," Jared tries to hand the bottle back, steps away like he's been punched. "I'm not -- "

That's when Lynn and Jack and Guy come back, crowding into the little room and looking concerned and asking questions.

Jared hands the bottle to Lynn and hightails it out of the room, casting one more hard look at Jensen before he goes.

Jensen imagines something in his eyes that almost looks like panic, like he's been caught having feelings he didn't know he had, or at least didn't want anybody to see.

But of course it's just Jensen's imagination.

*

Production halts for the rest of that day, then the next day the schedule's changed so they're filming scenes without Jensen, which means rescheduling everybody who normally had that day off, including a disgruntled Misha Collins, who was spending time with his family and seems less than happy to be called in earlier than expected.

Jensen huddles in his trailer, sipping tea and meditating, trying to get his equilibrium back.

Jared actually has the nerve to stop in and check on him, which is so completely weird for him that all they can do is stare awkwardly at each other until Jared gets mad and storms off again, muttering.

"Just be ready for tomorrow. I need my weekend off."

Lynn tries to talk him into going home, but Jensen is terrified of the thought of going back to his lonely little apartment, forced to face this thing all by himself there, away from work with all its normalcy and natural distractions.

Away from Jared.

Jensen knows he needs to talk to somebody, but when Jeremy sends a counseling psychologist "just to listen, if you need it," (and it makes Jensen furious because he's just sure Jared told Jeremy about his "delusion," the bastard) Jensen surprises himself by pulling a Dean Winchester and going all stoic and tough and insisting he's fine. He's just a little tired, is all. Just needs a day to recoup. He'll be back in business tomorrow, good as new.

And he must be better than he thinks because the woman totally buys what he's selling and leaves him alone.

But of course, what else can she do? He's goddamn Dean Winchester, damn it. If he says he's good, he's good.

But of course he's not Dean. So obviously not Dean. Sam could see that, even when he was fooling himself so he could get a little comfort, even when he was using Jensen so he could pretend he had his brother back.

And Jensen let himself be used because who was he kidding? Getting to fuck Sam Winchester was the most amazing goddamn thing he'd ever done. Hands down. Getting to touch all that warm, hard, scarred flesh, having those sharp hazel eyes looking at him with so much heat and affection, watching his mouth move as he spoke those perfect Sam lines -- only they weren't lines because they were really Sam's words -- getting to run his hands through all that long, soft hair.

Living to tell the story.

Jensen huffs out a laugh as he realizes he's probably the only person in the universe (besides Dean, of course) who has survived after fucking Sam Winchester.

But then, this isn't Sam's universe. Maybe if Jensen had stayed there, he'd be dead.

Of course he'd be dead. He was ridiculously out of his element there. Anybody would be. That place simply should not exist.

But now Jensen knows it does. And that's just about the trippiest thing ever.

And Jensen was there, and those things happened; he has the tattoo and a week of weight-loss to prove it, along with a sore ass and some pretty intense hickeys.

Weird how time moves differently here. How in this world only an hour passed for a whole week in that one.

Of course, the timelines weren't even matched up. There it's still the middle of last summer, while here it's almost Christmas.

Jensen spares an hour or so speculating about how things are going over there in Sam's world. He wonders how Sam will find his brother now that Jensen gave away all the story and changed things so drastically over there.

He's sure of one thing: Sam won't stop looking. And he'll eventually find Dean and they'll be together again, the way they're meant to be.

While back over here, in reality, Jensen and Jared are still sworn enemies.

Damn it.

Damn it all to hell.

*

It's stupidly embarrassing, the way the entire crew bursts into spontaneous applause the next morning when Jensen shows up for his call, bright and early and ready to go. Everyone seems so relieved he's okay, so glad to be back on a normal schedule, and so grateful that one of the show's leads isn't having a total and complete nervous breakdown which would bring production to a grinding halt -- possibly forever -- that by the end of the day Jensen is feeling more than a little guilty.

But also pretty good about being able to keep it together, get through the day, and reclaim some normalcy.

Because really, normal never felt so good. Jensen promises himself he will never, ever, take normal for granted again.

He catches Jared staring at him more than once that first day back, but he doesn't take the bait.

After what Jensen's been through, Jared Padalecki and his bullying assholishness just doesn't scare him anymore. The fact is, he's learned first hand that there are a lot scarier things out there than a pissed-off co-star who thinks he's God's gift to mankind. A co-star who's jealous and pissed-off because he's not the only star of this thing. Because there is no Sam without Dean.

Jensen knows that now with such confidence he can feel it radiate off him even when he's not in character.

Jared senses it too.

"What's up with you?" Jared asks when they're on set later that day, blocking yet another scene in a bar.

Jensen raises one eyebrow and gives a small shrug.

"You seem -- different," Jared hisses.

Jensen shrugs again.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, keeping his voice low so the crew can't hear what they're saying.

Jared shakes his head.

"You seem -- more relaxed," Jared tries again. "Mellow. Not so skittish and jumpy."

Jensen looks down at his mark, shakes his head once, doesn't answer.

"Oh my God," Jared sucks in a breath, suddenly all animated and excited. "Did you get laid? Is that what happened?"

Jensen looks up at him sharply. Was it that obvious?

"Oh my God, you did!" Jared exclaims excitedly. "Wow! Mr. Tight-ass Ackles finally gets some action! Am I right? Oh my God! Who was it? Was it that kid in the lighting department? I knew it! Oh wow."

Jensen waits for a pause in Jared's run-on sentences, then he holds Jared's gaze with a steely stare, daring him to look away.

"I fucked Sam Winchester," he says when he feels he's got Jared's full attention, "in the ass."

He watches Jared's eyes widen for a minute, gets the satisfaction of seeing the effect his words have on the man's equilibrium, sees the doubt flicker in those hazel orbs for a second before the familiar look of irritation and frustration returns.

"Asshole," Jared mutters.

"Takes one to know one," Jensen shoots back.

*

But the thing is, Jared's right. Jensen isn't so nervous all the time anymore.

Mostly, he thinks, it's because he's not afraid of Jared now. After the things he's seen, that other world, and Sam telling him things he never would have thought of on his own -- things about Jared that Jensen would never have dared to think about because he was so busy feeling like a creep and a jerk for messing everything up between them all those years ago. Permanently, he thought.

But that was before. 

Sam said Jared had feelings for Jensen, and Sam's words just would not leave Jensen's mind.

Maybe Sam was right. Maybe Jensen was still carrying a torch for Jared, even after that colossal rejection and all of Jared's taunts and bullying ever since.

But maybe -- just maybe -- Jared felt something too.

And if that was even the tiniest bit possible, well, Jensen might just have the tiniest bit of an upper hand.

Finally.


	2. Chapter 2

Which is when Jensen has the shock of his life the following week at the mid-season wrap party which doubles as a holiday party.

It's their tenth year, so all the cast and crew from past years are invited and it's a really big deal. Some of them are working other gigs and can't make it, but Jensen's really glad to see some of his old friends who can be there, Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Jim Beaver in particular.

There's the obligatory speeches from Jim Michaels and Jeremy Carver, then Jensen and Jared have to pose with the big Congratulations! cake before cutting it together, Jared's big warm hand over Jensen's on the knife like it's a goddamn wedding cake. But of course they've done it before so it's just auto-pilot, nothing personal, and they don't even look at each other when they're standing so close, Jensen shivering a little as Jared's big sweaty body radiates a giant shell of heat around him as he presses up against Jensen's back.

As soon as it's done and all the photos have been snapped Jensen slips away to the bar, grabs himself a whiskey and absconds with the bottle. He nurses it in a corner, as far from Jared as he can get, trying to shake the feeling of familiarity and rightness that being pressed against Jared always gives him.

That's where he is when Genevieve Cortese finds him, and Jensen does not want to talk to her but she's insistent. She's clearly been looking for him, and she's talking to him really intensely about something, but it takes Jensen a minute to realize she's blaming him for her marriage breaking up.

"Wh -- what?" Jensen squints a little, making an extra effort to focus through the alcohol-induced haze he's inflicted on himself.

"He's obsessed with you, asshole," Gen accuses, clearly pissed off but trying to be sassy. "All he ever did was talk about you -- Jensen this and Jensen that -- until I wanted to puke. I finally told him he needed to see a shrink and talk about this -- this thing he has about you, because I was just sick of hearing it. It totally destroyed our marriage."

"That's crazy," Jensen protests. "He hates me."

"He's in love with you, you stupid jerk," Gen glares, stamping her foot for emphasis. "You two have this crazy, mixed up thing that neither of you wants to acknowledge for some god-awful reason I don't even want to understand, but there it is. Take it from an ex-wife who did her damnedest to get her husband to take his mind off his one true love and failed utterly. And you know what? I don't even care anymore. I thought I did. I thought I hated you for awhile, but now you know what I think?"

Jensen's sucking down his drink, trying not to encourage her, looking desperately around for a way to escape, but she's got him pinned. She's going to say what she has to say to him no matter what and that's just the way it is.

"I think you two deserve each other," Gen proclaims with her hands on her hips and a bob of her abundantly coiffed head. All those long dark ringlets bounce as she nods, her generous mouth twisting into a sneer.

"You and Jared are two of the most stubborn assholes the world has ever known, and if you don't end up together it's just because you're both too bull-headed and stupid to admit how perfect you are for each other. And I am done, done, done caring about either one of you. God, I wish I never auditioned for this show in the first place. Worst decision I ever made."

"You don't mean that," Jensen says with a little shake of his head. "You and Jared had a really good thing. Just because it didn't last -- "

Gen's eyes fill with tears and she shakes her head violently.

"It was always you, Jensen, you jerk. I loved him, but he never loved anyone but you. And he can't even admit it to himself. God, this is so fucked up."

She wipes the back of her hand across her cheek, smearing mascara and foundation everywhere.

Jensen hands her his glass, only half-full, then reaches down to retrieve the bottle he stashed behind a chair, takes a swig.

"He'd slip up sometimes," Genevieve says after taking a long drink. "He'd call me Jen. I knew he meant you, not me. It was a way he had of saying your name -- and our names may sound the same, but when he says yours there's this longing there -- "

She chokes out a sob and Jensen fills her glass, glances around desperately for a way out again. He so does not need Jared's ex-wife falling apart in front of him right now.

Damn it damn it damn it.

"Listen, Gen -- uh, Genevieve," Jensen stammers. "You're gonna be okay. Maybe we can find you someplace to sit down, take it easy -- "

"Don't patronize me, Jensen," Genevieve snarls at him. "I am not a child. I know what I'm talking about."

Jensen flinches, ready to duck the blow she looks ready to aim at his jaw. Or worse. Maybe she'll throw the glass at him. That would be dramatic.

But Genevieve just takes a deep breath, steadying herself, takes another quick sip of the whiskey.

"It took me over a year to get past the anger. To stop feeling sorry for myself so I could go on with my life." 

She's not even looking at him now, just gazing off to the side, into the distance of her own memory.

"I could never have done this then, or even last year. But when this invitation came, I knew I had to come. I had to tell you how it was because -- "

She pauses as her eyes fill with tears again and she hands Jensen the glass so she can pull out a tissue from her little purse, dabs daintily at her eyes.

"I want him to be happy, Jensen, I actually want that for him now, even after all he put us through. All he put you through. And I just know the bits and pieces he told me about, so I can only guess what an asshole he's been to you."

Jensen feels himself flush, looks away uncomfortably.

"Gen -- That's not -- I don't -- "

"Just shut up and listen, okay?" she interrupts before he can form a coherent protest. "I came here to say this, and I'm gonna say it. I'm almost done."

So Jensen closes his mouth, raises his eyes and tries to be polite, tries to be a good southern gentleman like his momma taught him, lets the lady speak, no matter how painful it is.

"I need you to know this stuff because I'm fine now. I've got a new husband and he's the love of my life and everything worked out for me, so -- "

She dabs at her eye again, looks up at Jensen with a little shake of her head.

"So I'm just enough of an idiot to wish my ex-husband well, now that things have worked out for me. I can't tell you what to do, obviously. I just wanted you to know. Now it's up to you. Jared already knows what I think, not that it matters. But now at least you're even. Now he can't keep pretending he couldn't care less, because you know the truth."

She shakes her head a little, looks away from him.

"I don't quite have it in me to wish you the best, Jensen, I'm sure you can see that. But at least now I've got this off my chest I can move on. Get a little closure on all this."

She opens her arms in an expansive gesture, taking in the cavernous space with its Supernatural signage and its lighted stage with the huge cake and all the holiday decorations.

"I hope I never see this place again as long as I live," she says dramatically, throwing her head back so her long dark hair bounces around her. "Goodbye, Jensen. Thanks for the drink."

Jensen watches as she whirls around, then walks deliberately away from him on her six-inch heels, like a model on a runway, each step placed perfectly in front of the other.

He watches until she meets up with a tall, dark-haired man with a kind, handsome face who greets her with a smile and an intimate dip of his head, and Jensen lets himself feel relief as the man slips his arm around Genevieve, pulling her in close as they walk away together.

He's trying not to think too hard about what she just said to him, half-way to deciding she'd been drinking and it was all in her head anyway, when he's startled by a familiar voice.

"What was that about?"

Jensen nearly jumps out of his skin.

Jared is standing behind him -- how the hell did he manage to creep up behind him anyway?! -- staring over his shoulder after his ex-wife and her new husband.

"What?"

Jensen's first instinct is to lie, to just make something up that has nothing to do with anything.

But then he remembers what Sam Winchester said, and he finds he's got more courage than he thought he had.

"Oh, that?" he shrugs noncommittally. "Not much. She seems to think I broke up your marriage. Thinks you're in love with me."

"She what?" Jared's expression is priceless, flushing red with embarrassment, maximum dimpled grimace warring with stunned surprise.

"Yeah," Jensen nods, taking a sip from his glass. "So are you? In love with me?"

He says the last with a raised eyebrow, staring up at Jared with frank expectation, trying to keep the smirk from twisting his lips too obviously.

But Jared reads his expression expertly, and Jensen's reminded of how well they really know each other, how well they get each other after almost ten years of working together practically all day, every day. Jared understands every facial tic and tone of voice, every nuance in his posture and body language.

Nobody knows Jensen as well as Jared does.

And up until fairly recently, Jensen thought nobody hated him more.

"You're such an asshole," Jared breathes, shaking his head.

But he says it without real malice, almost as a reflex. In fact, if Jensen didn't know any better, he'd say Jared was emoting some exasperated brotherly affection, something at least a little akin to Sam's feelings for Dean.

Or maybe he's just relieved that Jensen didn't seem to be taking what Genevieve said too seriously.

Huh.

Because Jared's stunned embarrassment can't possibly be the response of somebody whose secret obsession has suddenly been exposed, right? To the object of his obsession, no less?

Well? Right?

"Clearly I'm not drunk enough to get through the rest of this evening," Jensen says now, holding up his nearly empty bottle. "Time to find another bottle. Wanna come?"

And, surprisingly, Jared does.

*

They're off the next morning to a convention in Seattle, the last one of the year. They have six weeks off before filming starts again, so Jensen plans to head down to Los Angeles to hang out with family and friends there for awhile and Jared's heading back to Texas.

They decide to ride together to the airport in the morning for the sake of convenience, nothing more. Jensen rests his head back against the seat and lets himself doze, and Jared does whatever Jared does with his phone -- probably tweeting about his and Jensen's supposed friendship and all the fun things they do together.

Turns out they booked the same flight, so they end up sitting together on the plane, and Jared tweets some more, just for PR purposes.

Jensen mostly sleeps on the two-hour flight, still trying to catch up on sleep lost the night before.

He's not trying to avoid thinking about what Genevieve said, no way.

And it's not making Jensen intensely aware of Jared's body in the seat next to his. Nuh-uh.

Jensen is really not hyper-conscious of Jared's arm brushing his a sum total of sixteen times during the flight. Nope. Not.

And when they land at SeaTac and there's a group of fans waiting to greet them Jensen does not think about the way Jared leans into him when they pose for a few quick pictures together with a fan or two, and it really doesn't affect him in the least when a fan asks them to put their arms around each other for a shot or two and Jared just happens to press his cheek to Jensen's head as he pulls him against his overheated body --

No no no.

'Cause Jensen is a professional and this is all for show. Yup. Nothing real about it at all.

Then comes the awkward moment when they get to the hotel and some idiot hotel worker has booked them into the same room, and of course the hotel is booked solid and at the moment there's nothing else available.

And Jensen tries not to let his surprise show when Jared doesn't blow a gasket at the hotel clerk over the mistake, as he usually would. In fact, Jared's weirdly calm acceptance of the situation might almost be considered suspicious if it weren't so convenient. And if Jensen didn't know better he might think Jared is kinda happy about this particular turn of events.

Because now they're actually sharing a living space for the first time in six years -- for the first time since that night Jensen never wants to think about again as long as he lives, although he recently shared it with Sam Winchester -- post-coitally, no less.

Life is definitely stranger than fiction.

Especially when fiction turns out to be real life.

Stop, Jensen scolds himself sharply as he unpacks his meager belongings and stows them in the hotel room closet. Not thinking about this.

The good thing is the room is a suite, so Jensen gallantly offers to take the sleeper-sofa in the sitting room and give Jared the king-size bed in the bedroom, so it's all good.

And the craziest thing about all of this is that Jared's continued presence isn't making Jensen all tense and uncomfortable like it usually does. In fact, if he's being completely honest with himself, he has to admit it's not miserable at all.

It's a little bit nice, actually.

*

They're supposed to be up early for the breakfast panel the next morning, so Jensen does his meditation and his yoga exercises, orders a salad and a glass of wine from room service, and turns in early.

He can hear Jared crashing around in the other room, doing typically noisy, physical things before slamming the door and leaving such complete silence in his wake Jensen finds himself straining to hear any lingering sound, just to give his ears something to do.

But it's no use. Jared has gone out, and Jensen can't be sure whether he should be feeling relief or disappointment.

No way. There is no way he can be wishing Jared asked him to go with him. Not a chance.

He finishes his exercises, takes a nice long shower, puts on clean shorts and a tee-shirt and climbs into the sofa bed, turning out all of the lights except the one in the bathroom, hoping Jared can find his way in the gloom.

He's almost asleep when the door slams and Jared barrels around the other room for a few minutes, then softly opens the door from the bedroom. Jensen lies as still as he can, pretending to be deeply asleep, and Jared seems to stand for a long time in the doorway -- maybe letting his eyes adjust to the dimness? Because no way is he watching Jensen sleep, right? -- before he creeps across the room to go into the bathroom, banging his shin with a loudly whispered curse on the corner of the oddly-placed coffee-table.

"Fuck-shit-fuck-shit-fuck-shit!"

And Jensen falls asleep with a smile turning up his mouth and Jared's curse in his ears.

*

They manage to move around each other fairly gracefully in the morning -- well, gracefully isn't really a word Jensen would associate with Jared, but anyway.

They're escorted to the green room a half-hour before their morning appearance, and Jensen is on his third cup of coffee by the time they hit the stage, which is really more of a platform on one end of a bland, brown-and-beige conference room, designed for business conferences, not classic-rock-styled horror shows for denim-and-flannel-and-leather-clad t.v. fans.

It feels different now, doing their thing in front of an audience, knowing what Jensen now knows about the Supernatural world. As he looks out on the expectant, excited faces of his fans, he's wildly tempted to just tell them, imagines the looks on their faces and the collective gasp -- like Becky in that episode -- "I knew it!"

But he holds back, deciding it's probably not a good idea to go public with his experience in that other world. He's pretty sure the powers-that-be wouldn't hold it against him, would let him get away with it and chalk it up to just another of his eccentric behaviors (and he's pretty sure they're used to most of those by now).

But Jared might.

Not that he cares what Jared thinks. No, he really doesn't.

But he decides not to say anything anyway. Just because.

Jared's doing that flirty, handsy thing he does at convention appearances, and it's such a natural thing, their convention act, and Jensen's so used to doing it in public he lets his mind wander, doesn't even worry about it anymore the way he used to.

Except Jared seems to be touching him more than usual today, and when he looks over at his co-star, who's talking a blue streak as usual but has his hand on Jensen's arm like he's forgotten it's there, Jensen waits till Jared returns his gaze before dropping his eyes rather pointedly to the offending hand.

The audience titters as Jared looks down, seems to notice he's been touching Jensen non-stop for the past ten minutes, and actually looks surprised.

"Oh, sorry," he improvises -- and Jensen can tell he's really surprised, but the audience probably figures it's part of the show. "You looked like you needed a little contact."

He pulls his hand away, but a moment later he's got it back on Jensen's shoulder as he starts telling another story.

Jensen looks out at the audience and blinks. They laugh, of course, going along with what must seem natural and ordinary -- Jared and Jensen being such good friends in public, deliberately feeding into their fantasies that J2 is a thing. It's all part of the act Jensen and Jared have done a million times before over the years, vaguely suggestive but always family-friendly, never crossing that all-important line.

But this time Jensen is acutely aware of the weight and heat of Jared's hand, and he's pretty sure that it's intentional.

When they finally leave the stage, Jared leaves his hand on Jensen's back longer than necessary, after the doors close behind them and there's no one to see them anymore except the convention employees who couldn't care less.

*

There's a meet-and-greet after, followed by lunch with somebody from a media outlet who asks endless questions about Dean's motivations in the first half of the season and what the plans are for the second half of Season Ten. Jensen does his usual media thing through both meetings, ignoring his instinct to glance around the room until he can catch Jared's eye. He doesn't have to, cuz he can hear Jared loud and clear -- like he's right there under his nose, in fact, and yeah. Jensen's pretty sure he can smell him too. Guy sweats and huffs like a freakin' bull.

The afternoon photo-ops and panel go pretty much as expected. Jensen does more of his thing of pretending Jared's not being a little more solicitous than usual. Jared touches him way more than usual. But otherwise they get through it just fine -- the fans seem entertained and satisfied. Someone even comments that they seem so much closer than their characters this season, and it's nice to see.

Jared and Jensen exchange a look, and Jensen swears there's something real behind the smirk on his co-star's face for once, but he doesn't let him see that he sees.

Jared gets up, steps over and lays a big ol' hug on him, made awkward because of the angle; he has to practically bend in half to lean down far enough to do it. Jensen accepts the contact, sits absolutely still and stares all resigned at the audience, not quite rolling his eyes as he does, and they get the chorus of "awwwws" Jared was clearly going for while Jensen tries hard not to take a deep breath, not to pull too much of Jared's sweaty male scent into his system.

When they leave Jensen waits for Jared to say something nasty or cutting, to negate the display of fraternal affection as he so often does. Jensen's so used to Jared doing this that he's learned to prepare for it, to harden himself into a tight little shield against the snark he's used to getting from Jared.

But this time, Jared is silent. This time, there's none of that.

And instead of protecting himself, Jensen's thinking about what Sam told him. Then he thinks about Genevieve's weird accusations and Jared's behavior over the past week.

"What?" Jared demands as they make their way back to their room for showers.

Jensen shakes his head, but he leaves the little smile on his lips and in his eyes. He can feel it.

"Nothing," he says, and Jared frowns. "You're just -- different, is all."

Jared huffs out a breath as they pile into the elevator, just them and a couple of Creation bodyguard types, silent and bored.

"No more different than you," Jared returns. "You're like somebody else entirely."

"Yeah?" Jensen thinks about that. Did that other universe really affect him that much? Is he a changed man after that experience?

Is it so obvious to Jared?

"Yeah," Jared confirms. "Like somebody took down the big sign on your forehead that screamed 'kick me' all the time."

Jensen's eyebrows shoot up. Really? Everybody saw him as some kind of victim?  


"Well, you're not so angry all the time," Jensen counters, because it's true. He hasn't witnessed one of Jared's usual temper tantrums all week.

"Huh," Jared thinks about that, then nods. "Maybe I am getting better dealing with my anger issues. I've been seeing someone."

Jensen looks at him in surprise. That he was not expecting, and it shouldn't make him feel a stab of jealousy, no sir.

Jared reads his look and shakes his head quickly.

"No, I mean I'm seeing a therapist," he clarifies, and Jensen does not breathe a sigh of relief, no way in hell.

"Oh," he says instead, and an awkward silence descends for the duration of the elevator ride.

And Jensen is really not thinking about his own reaction to the notion that Jared is dating someone. He really does not care, he tells himself repeatedly as they enter their rooms and he lets Jared have first dibs on the shower because Jared is a huge sweaty mess and Jensen isn't thinking about that. Or about how much washing Jared's gonna have to do to clean himself up.

No no no.

*

Jensen stayed in the night before because this is the night his friend's band is in town and he's promised himself he would go see them before he flies out in the morning.

He fully expects Jared to leave tonight, so he's surprised when Jared hovers around, orders food, turns on the t.v. It feels a little awkward -- no, a lot awkward -- to feel Jared's eyes on him every time he goes back and forth from the closet to the bathroom, dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt under his flannel, not deliberately but just because it feels comfortable. He's pumped and excited to get out, to see Steve and Chris and the band, to get that high that only live music gives him. Maybe he'll get to sing with them a little. They'll have an extra guitar and they'll go back to Steve's hotel after to jam, and he's really looking forward to getting lost in the music.

Jared's staring at him with an expression that's dark and brooding and hungry, and Jensen can't stand it.

"What?" he demands finally, stopping in front of Jared with a questioning gesture. "Aren't you flying out tonight?"

Jared lowers his eyes, shakes his head.

"Damn airline fucked up again," he says miserably. "I'm stuck here till morning."

Oh. Damn. Jared does have the worst luck with airlines, that's something Jensen cannot deny.

"So -- " he cannot believe what he's about to say. "Come out with me. I'm going to see KANE."

Jared shakes his head. 

"I'll just be a nuisance," he protests. "They're your friends. They don't like me."

Actually, he has a point there. Steve and Chris are good friends, and they've been pretty protective of Jensen over the years, especially where Jared is concerned.

But this is Jensen's life. He gets to call the shots.

"Yeah, well, they're just being good buddies," Jensen says. "Watching out for me."

"They think I'm a jerk," Jared says.

Jensen shrugs.

"Well, you are," he says. "Or at least, you were. Not such a jerk right now, so come on out and have some fun. No sense being stuck here alone all night."

And damn it if Jared doesn't look so grateful it almost melts Jensen's heart.

Almost.

And that's how Jared and Jensen end up out on the town together in Seattle, crowding into the sweaty, noisy club where bodies are pressed wall-to-wall and they can't help being pressed up against each other, jostling their drinks and making their way to the stage, dancing together side-by-side as they move to the music.

Steve sees them right away, lifts his eyebrows in a smile, mouths "Jenny! My man!" then darts a worried look at Jared, frowns a little.

Jensen raises his glass in a mock salute, shrugs as he tips his head toward Jared, big grin plastered ear-to-ear because damn! This feels good!

Chris sees them too, glares pointedly at Jared, changes the set list so that the next song is about an abusive relationship.

Not subtle, that Christian Kane, Jensen thinks with a little smirk and a glance at Jared, who obviously gets it and actually has the decency to look a little chagrined.

Well. That's different.

Two or three drinks later, Jensen's more than ready when Chris welcomes him up onto the stage to sing, offers him his guitar. When the band launches into "The Weight," Jensen feels Jared's eyes on him, feels him standing still among all the moving bodies, just watching.

Half-way through the song, Jensen looks up at his co-star, makes eye contact just long enough to acknowledge Jared's offer of a truce, if not an apology. And in the moment, as Jared looks back his gratitude, Jensen lets the warmth of real connection flood his chest for the first time in years.

And just like that, without exchanging a single word, he knows they're gonna be okay.

Not best friends, maybe, but no longer sworn enemies.

*

Later, when they tumble into taxis for the ride back to the hotel, Jared's plastered to his side, and Jensen realizes he's not anxious or nervous around Jared anymore. Hasn't been for the whole week since he got back, actually. The past is finally in the past, and he and Jared have really moved on.

It's almost like that night all those years ago never even happened.

Because before that, they were real buddies. They hit it off. They enjoyed each other's company and spent every waking minute together, those first three years or so. Lived together and everything.

Until Jensen had to go and spoil it all by getting drunk and hitting on Jared too hard one night and Jared freaked out and --

Not thinking about that now.

Because now it's good again for the first time in over six years, and Jensen definitely doesn't want to spoil it again.

Ever.


	3. Chapter 3

When they wake up the next morning it's snowing. Jared's already up, showered, has the coffee going. Hands Jensen a cup and gives him the weather report while he's still in bed, rubbing his eyes and blinking at the white light from the window as Jared draws the shade.

"Blizzard," Jared is saying, flipping on the t.v. so Jensen can see the weather report for himself. "I already checked with the airport. Planes are grounded. All flights canceled. This entire city is just shut down, man. It's a nightmare."

"How long?" Jensen asks, clearing his throat and trying to sit up, which isn't easy with how groggy he feels and a cup of hot coffee in his hand.

"They think it'll pass by later today," Jared answers. "Or just turn to rain. But they've got to get the roads cleared. Seattle never deals well with snow. They don't have the equipment."

"What about Portland?" Jensen suggests. "Is it snowing there?"

Jared shakes his head.

"Just here, of course."

"So we drive to Portland, catch our flights from there," Jensen suggests, running his free hand through his hair. "I'm hitting the shower. You get us a car rental."

And just like that, they're moving in sync again.

It feels so natural, like the way they work when they're on set, and Jensen takes a minute as he's soaping himself up in the shower to be grateful for Jared's sudden cordiality. It makes their current situation about a million times easier. If they deal with this together, the whole thing becomes manageable, not such a monumental pain in the ass.

More of a slightly-less-than-monumental pain in the ass.

And Jared not arguing or blowing him off when Jensen asks him to do something -- that's so new it feels strange, but also a huge relief. Because there was a time, long ago, that Jared really looked up to Jensen, really admired him and wanted his approval all the time. Jensen doesn't even want to think about how much he misses that. How much he liked playing Jared's big brother. How natural it felt, not like acting at all.

And if Jensen finds himself jerking off in the warm water because thinking about Jared as he washes himself has made him hard as a rock, well -- that's just a necessary part of helping himself relax and prepare for the stress of the day to come -- since he won't have time for his usual yoga and tai-chi exercises if he's stuck in a car with Jared.

Being stuck in a car with Jared somehow doesn't sound as bad as he expected it would, and he comes hard thinking about how Jared smells in closed-in spaces, something he's intimately familiar with after almost ten years on this show.

*

When they pick up the car it's not the four-wheel drive vehicle they would have preferred -- every car rental company in Seattle is out of those right now, apparently. So they find themselves crammed into a late-model Chevy Impala, of all things. It's billed as a family sedan, but the leg-room is nowhere near enough for two tall men, and Jared insists on driving because he's damned if he's going to fold his long legs into the passenger seat leg-well and just sit there.

Jensen doesn't mind giving Jared control. He figures it'll be a chance for him to get a little more shut-eye. Plus Jared has had more experience driving in snow than Jensen has, since he did a lot of skiing in Colorado growing up.

It's a slow drive getting out of the city, and Jared curses a lot and slams the flat of his hand against the steering wheel so much Jensen gives up on sleeping for the first hour or so.

But then they're on I-5 and at least they seem to be moving, albeit at a snail's pace, and Jensen finds he can nod off to the soothing sound of the windshield wipers slapping the glass, the tires sloshing through slushy snow as they move slowly but steadily southward down the interstate.

*

"Fuck!"

Jared's cursing has been going on awhile, Jensen realizes as he starts awake after what must be at least another hour or so because he's stiff and his mouth is dry from hanging open.

"Fuck! Goddamn it! Fuck!"

Jared's hand slams against the steering wheel for emphasis.

Jensen takes a deep breath, closes his mouth and salivates deliberately before pushing himself away from the window he was leaning on and sits up, blinking and rubbing his eyes.

Outside the car everything is white.

The snow has blanketed the trees on either side of the road as well as the road in front and behind them.

The road is completely empty of cars.

This is not I-5, Jensen realizes. They're on some kind of two-lane mountain road, as far as Jensen can tell, and they are totally alone.

"Where are we?" he asks, tamping down the panic rising in his chest.

"My phone said I could take this short-cut," Jared explains with a gesture at the road. "I-5 was so jammed and I was afraid we were gonna get stuck so I took this side-road and -- "

The car is still moving, tires crunching on packed snow, but nobody has plowed this road, and the snow is getting steadily deeper, and --

"Turn back," Jensen says, glancing over his shoulder at the way they came. "We can turn back."

"It's been just like this for the past hour," Jared shakes his head. "Except now the snow is getting really deep and I think if we turn around we'll just get stuck. My phone says it's only five miles on this road -- "

Jensen pulls out his phone, holds it up, and --

"You getting any signal?" he asks, because Jensen is not.

Jared says nothing, so Jensen turns to him, stares at the familiar profile.

Jared is staring resolutely at the road, jaw clenched, hands clutching the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white.

"Jay?" Jensen prods, struggling to keep the hysteria out of his voice.

Jared's jaw works angrily for a moment, then he gives a tiny shake of his head.

"Jared -- " Jensen lets a breath out, stares ahead for a minute to gather his wits, resisting the urge to start screaming. "You need to turn around right now, man. We're lost and we don't have a phone and there's nobody on this road. This -- "

He gulps down his panic, tries again.

"This isn't good," he finishes lamely.

"It was only five miles," Jared mutters, sounding bewildered and freaked-out at the same time, like somebody played a huge practical joke on him and he's just now getting to the punch line. "I just kept thinking one more mile, one more mile, we'll be there -- we'll get back to the main road -- "

"Jared," Jensen keeps saying his co-star's name as a way to steady himself as much as to get Jared's attention. "How many miles have we gone on this road?"

"Five miles," Jared's shaking his head, not answering. "It said five miles."

"Jared!"

Jared clamps his mouth shut, shakes his head again, glances at Jensen before staring back at the road.

"Thirty-seven miles," he answers softly, letting out a long sigh. His shoulders sag and he seems to deflate into himself, hunching over the wheel in defeat.

"Shit," Jensen breathes.

Which is when the car stops moving.

Jared tries gunning the engine, rocks the car back and forth, shifting from reverse to first.

Nothing. There is something like three feet of snow in the road all around them, and the wind is blowing drifts around the car and it's snowing heavily.

They're stuck.

"Okay," Jensen says when the it's clear the car isn't going anywhere. "So we wait for the plow."

He flips on the radio, searching for a station, but they're apparently out of range of all radio signals as well as cell-phone towers, which makes no sense. They might as well be on the moon.

"Did you ever pass another car on this road?" Jensen finally asks.

He has to turn and look at Jared again to get him to answer, and even then all he gets is Jared shaking his head again.

"Any houses? Any signs of life at all?"

Again with the head-shaking, and Jensen closes his eyes against the urge to blame, to start chastising and cursing and tearing into Jared for his stupidity and stubbornness in the face of his obvious mistake.

But he doesn't, because doing so will only make things worse, and Jensen doesn't need Jared breaking down or yelling at him right now.

Or starting to cry, for God's sake.

"Okay," Jensen tries when he's regained his zen and feels a little calmer. "This isn't supposed to last more than a few hours, right? So we stay here, run the heater off and on to keep warm, drink melted snow if we really need to, although we need to try to warm it before we drink it so we don't lower our body temperatures. We can put more clothes on. Layers are good."

"Huddle together for warmth as a last resort," Jared adds, and Jensen looks sharply at him but there's no sarcasm in Jared's expression. In fact, he looks so lost and young it makes Jensen's chest ache.

"Right," he agrees, giving Jared a little reassuring smile. "As a last resort."

They sit silently for a few minutes, watching the snow, which isn't showing any signs of letting up. If anything, it seems to be getting heavier, and Jensen begins to wonder if it might eventually bury the car completely.

The thought of being buried in snow is messing with Jensen's natural claustrophobia and he has to close his eyes and take deep breaths to fight it down. When he opens them again Jared is staring at him.

"We can walk out," Jared says, as if he's reading Jensen's mind. "It's only one o'clock in the afternoon. If we start now, head back toward the main road, we should be there in about six or seven hours."

Jensen raises his eyebrows.

"Really? We can walk five or six miles an hour? In heavy snow?" Jensen shakes his head doubtfully. "I don't know about you, pal, but that's my comfortable jogging rate on a smooth surface with no hills. Not sure I could pull off a jog in this stuff. Or keep it up for six hours straight."

Jared bites his bottom lip, nods.

"Right," he says. "I wasn't thinking about how the snow would slow us down."

"And freeze our butts off," Jensen adds helpfully. "We're not exactly dressed for this weather."

"Damn it!" Jared slams his hand against the steering wheel again. "What the hell was I thinking?"

"Well, I don't know," Jensen offers slowly, not wanting to piss Jared off, given their extremely tight proximity. "But like you said, you thought you were taking a short-cut. Accidents happen."

Jared stares at the snow silently for a moment, then turns to Jensen, frowning.

"You're not mad," he notes speculatively. "If our positions were reversed, I would be furious with you."

Jensen shrugs noncommittally.

"Getting mad doesn't help the situation," he notes easily. "And if our positions were reversed, I never would've taken that short-cut."

Jared snorts.

"No, you wouldn't," he agrees. "You never do anything unless you're one-hundred-percent sure it will work first."

Jensen considers this for a moment.

"Are you telling me I don't take risks?" he suggests cautiously. "Cuz last time I checked, pretty much everything about our jobs is doing that."

"Not talking about the job," Jared grouses, looking away so Jensen's staring at his profile again. 

"Oh?" Jensen pushes, although he has a prickly feeling that tells him he probably shouldn't. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jared flushes, his skin reddening as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and Jensen's suddenly thinking about what Genevieve told him, then what Sam told him, and suddenly Jensen's feeling a flush rise on his own skin and it's actually getting a little too warm in the car.

"Never mind," he mutters, as much to let Jared off the hook as to change the subject -- whatever the subject was supposed to be that he suddenly feels sure he doesn't want to talk about.

Because hell yes, he did take a risk all those years ago, and look where it got them?

Not not NOT going there.

*

They spend the next three hours waiting for the snow to stop. Jared gets out of the car a couple of times -- once to piss, once to dig out the back of the car using his duffel bag as a shovel, which doesn't really work very well but gives him something to do. They agree they should take turns doing this, since if the exhaust pipe becomes completely covered they could asphyxiate. Or at least that's what Jensen tells himself so that he has an excuse to get out of the damn car once in awhile. It's bitterly cold, and neither of them brought much in the way of extra clothing -- they always travel light when they do these weekend conventions -- but they each have an extra shirt they put on, and Jared has his beanie, so at least he's got something to cover his head, which he graciously loans to Jensen whenever it's his turn to get out of the car. Neither of them has appropriate footwear, and Jensen's expensive leather boots are soaked through after the first outing, as well as his jeans up to the knee, and he sits shivering and wet for ten minutes while Jared blasts the heat in the car to dry him but it doesn't really work and he feels like a damp dog. Pretty sure he smells like one too, cuz Jared does.

There's no food, of course, and neither of them has eaten since breakfast, so by late afternoon they're fighting off the first pangs of serious hunger and resisting the urge to drink melted snow just to give their bellies something to gnaw on. Luckily they have Jensen's Starbucks cup from that morning's coffee run, and Jared fills it with snow, then lets it sit in the car for an hour and melt, holding it in front of the heat vents until it's just water, without any ice left. They take turns sipping the cold water, and it does help their dehydration a little, but it also makes them hungrier.

Around 4:00 it starts to get dark. It's almost winter, after all, and the days are getting shorter. Which means, the night will be really, really long. The thought of sitting in the car all night is beginning to look inevitable, and not fun.

That's when Jared comes up with the idea that ends up changing everything.

"We could walk back a mile or two, see if we can get cell service," he suggests.

Jensen thinks about this as he watches the thickening, blowing snow, the darkening sky.

"I'll go," he says, hunching his jacket around him and preparing to launch himself out into the blizzard.

"Hell, no!" Jared retorts. "We both go. I can't stay here while you're out there in that."

Jensen turns the full force of his gaze on Jared, who looks a little desperate along with his usual bitchiness.

"One of us should stay in case the plow comes," Jensen points out. "Maybe it'll come from the opposite direction, you know?"

"So I'll go," Jared insists. "I've got a head covering. You'll lose body heat faster. Also I'm bigger. Hotter."

Jensen's bites back the sassy response he would've delivered if the situation weren't so dire.

"How long do you think it'll take before you freeze to death?" Jensen asks. "Outside, I mean. How long do you think it'll take before you just drop from exposure?"

"I dunno," Jared shrugs. "Maybe a couple of hours, maybe more if I can keep moving."

"So you would walk for an hour, then turn around and come back," Jensen clarifies, and Jared nods.

"That's right," he agrees. "Be back in two hours."

Jensen considers this, imagines being alone in the cold car, waiting for Jared to come back, for two whole hours. He knows instinctively that Jared will push himself and it will be longer. Jared won't be able to help himself. He'll get out there and he'll keep going, telling himself that any minute he'll get that signal. If he can just walk for five more minutes --

And what if he doesn't come back? What if the two hours go by and there's no Jared? Then three or four hours --

Jensen's talking himself out of this plan pretty quickly.

Then the car runs out of gas.

"Seriously?"

Jared tries to start the car for a minute, clearly not facing the obvious -- which Jensen had assumed would be happening at some point but really hadn't wanted to think too much about because without the engine the car's battery would only last another hour at most and then they'd be facing a long night in a freezing car and Jensen had not wanted to think about the inevitability of that because it just didn't help anything.

Jared slams his hand against the steering wheel, against the dash, against the door and window -- and Jensen waits it out, lets Jared just bang out his frustration on the car until he's done, breathing hard, shoving his hair out of his face and finally turning a desperate, half-crazed stare on his co-star.

For a minute Jensen thinks he's going to break down -- say he's sorry, maybe, or start to cry -- but he just stares at Jensen with an expression so lost and bewildered and young that it reminds Jensen of the kid he was when they first met, how he looked up to Jensen then and treated him like a big brother.

Until Jensen betrayed that trust by trying to seduce him.

"We both go," Jensen says now, holding Jared's gaze steadily, willing him to remember how things used to be between them, how Jared always trusted Jensen's judgement and assumed Jensen knew best.

Not that he really did, of course, but Jensen's good at being steady when he needs to be. And right now, in this situation, he needs to be really, really steady.

Even if he's freaking out on the inside.

"We can't just sit here," Jensen tries again. "And I'm not letting you go out there alone. So we both go, we spend an hour trying to find a signal, then we turn around and come back here for the night. Try to stay warm."

Jensen watches Jared's face as he considers their options now that the car has completely died on them, or at least will be completely dead within the hour, even if they ration the heat. Jensen can see the moment Jared agrees to his plan, agrees to let Jensen come with him, even if it means they'll both freeze to death out there, with night coming on fast.

Having something to do, not just sitting still anymore, gives both of them a lift. It's not much of a plan -- walking for an hour at most, they promise themselves, before giving up and coming back to the shelter of the car, where they'll wait out the night huddled together for warmth, and Jensen is enough of a perv to let his mind imagine the scene because they'll probably have to take off some clothing and go skin to skin in the backseat to maximize their body heat and take turns moving around to keep all surfaces covered and keep the blood flowing through their limbs.

Even so, without adequate clothing and blankets -- Jensen can hear his grandfather's voice in his head, reminding him never to drive out into the country anywhere without blankets and flashlights and water and an empty gas can in the trunk and now he's done exactly that and he's let his grandfather down and it hurts almost as much as the idea of freezing to death in the back of a Chevy Impala in the middle of a freak snowstorm somewhere in Washington state.

Jensen can imagine the headline when they're found half-naked and frozen to death in the back of that car, and maybe that's what drives him out into the snow in the first place. He really doesn't want to end that way.

"Let's do it," Jared shivers once they're side-by-side in the blizzard, staring back down the snow-covered road, blinking against the icy snow blowing in their faces.

Jensen has wrapped his extra shirt around his head, pulls it over his face and tucks it in, leaving only his eyes exposed to the freezing wind. He's put his extra socks on his feet, so his hands are bare, but he tucks them into his armpits, under his jacket as they begin trudging down the road.

The snow is knee-high and shifting, so that they sink with every step, and it's agonizingly slow-going and exhausting, but the car disappears behind them after about ten minutes. They stop every five minutes or so to check for cell service, but by the end of the allotted hour Jensen's phone battery is dangerously low. Neither of them wants to turn back at that point, and now it's getting seriously dark, but the snow is bright and they can still see the road ahead of them so they keep going, never stopping to question whether it's the right thing to do. It's too windy to talk anyway, and it's better to stay huddled in their meager clothing, not try to lift their faces out of their jackets long enough to speak.

After another hour has passed Jensen can't feel his feet anymore and he stumbles. Jared's right there, helping him up, big strong hands on his bicep, around his back, hauling him up. Jensen's amazed to find he can still stand on his own, because he's suddenly aware of feeling incredibly tired, overwhelmingly drowsy.

Jared pulls out his phone, checks it as they stand huddled together, breathing each other's air for warmth.

Jared's eyes lift to Jensen's and he shakes his head, then leans in so his lips are close to Jensen's ear.

"We should head back," he yells against the wind.

Jensen wants to answer no, he thinks he'll just lie down in the soft snow right here and take a nap, thank you, but he can't feel his lips anymore. Can't feel his ears. Can't feel his cheeks or fingers or thighs -- in fact his lower entire body all the way to his waist is beyond numb, beyond cold, starting to feel warm and cozy again. But vaguely painful too.

It's weird, freezing to death. Jensen wonders distantly if his mind will register when it really happens, or if he'll be asleep by then. He imagines he's already frost-bitten, and it makes him sad to think of all the attention lavished on his face over the years, since a huge part of his job as a t.v. actor was to have perfect skin and teeth and regular features. All that, so that his nose and ears and lips and cheeks would go black with frostbite.

What an asshole he must be to be thinking about his looks at a time like this.

He's aware of turning around, heading back the way they came, back to the relative protection of that shitty car -- feeling defeat in every step, even if he can't feel his feet.

Ha. Making puns is good. Jokes at a time like this are good.

They've walked forever, all night it feels like, and he's vaguely aware that Jared is holding him up, Jared's arm is around his back, Jared's hand is still on his bicep and he wishes he could feel it because he always wants to feel Jared's hands on him, he always loves it when Jared touches him. Jensen's so sleepy he can't hold his head up anymore, so he lets it fall onto Jared's shoulder, leaves it there and closes his eyes.

Jared doesn't seem to notice for awhile, but finally he stops, shakes Jensen a little, calls his name directly into his ear.

And Jensen tries to open his eyes, he really does, but there are icicles on his eyelashes and raising his eyelids feels like the hardest thing he's ever had to do. He does it though, for Jared, so he can look up into Jared's wind-chapped face, Jared's own eyelashes dusted with snow, his soft hazel eyes with the worried lines around the corners.

"Stay awake!" Jared yells at him over the wind. "Come on, man, don't pass out on me. I can't carry you in this!"

"It's okay," Jensen tries to say, but his mouth is frozen and he's not sure if any sound comes out. "I'll just lie down here and wait. You can come back for me later."

He's sinking down into the soft snow and it feels warm, like the softest blankets, and Jensen is so sleepy all he can think about is lying down and resting here where the snow is so deep and almost warm --

Jensen can hear Jared yelling his name, and he can sort of feel Jared pulling on him, trying to get him to stand up, but it's just no use. Jared needs to just leave him here, he thinks. Why can't he just leave him here? Just for a little while?

"Jensen! Come on!" Jared is kneeling down in the snow next to him, yelling right into his ear. "There's a house! I can see a house! Come on, man. It's right over here -- just a few steps away! You can lie down there! Come on, Jen, just a little further, man. Please! Please don't do this to me!"

Jensen tries to smile at him, reassure him that he's okay, it's all okay. He's fairly sure that Jared is exaggerating. Things aren't that dire. Jared can go, and Jensen can stay, and it will all be better in the morning after Jensen has had a good night's sleep.

But he knows he's dying too, cuz he can feel the pain every once in awhile, and also he knows he's cold, it just likes to trick him into feeling he's warm, and his grandfather's voice is there saying "Jensen Ross, I did not work so hard for this family so that you can lie down in the snow and go to sleep on the job. No sir, I did not."

And Jensen is trying. He knows he owes it to his pioneer ancestors who worked so hard to make a hard-scrabble living out of the Texas dust and dirt and Remember-the-Alamo history, goddamn it.

But it feels so good to lie in the soft snow, and all Jensen wants is a little rest --

That's when Jared gets belligerent.

"Jensen Ross Ackles, you get up right this minute, you hear me? You get your lame ass up right now!"

Jensen tries to turn his head so he can look at Jared for the last time -- he's so beautiful and Jensen doesn't want to forget how beautiful Jared is -- he wishes he could have told him so. Jared knows he's good-looking, of course, but to Jensen he's just perfect. He will carry this image of that beautiful perfect person with whom he had the good fortune of being cast to his grave.

Because Jensen always knew it was some kind of strange fate that brought him and Jared together. There was something magical at work. Something --

Something supernatural.

Okay, he said it.

Or thought it, at least. And now, thinking it makes it real, isn't that what they said in the show? If enough people believed something was real, it could be literally brought into existence?

And Jensen was there, in that world. He and Sam Winchester were together, even if it was only a lonely substitute for the person they both wished to be with -- their worlds collided, man. That was what happened. Sam and Jensen were a thing, if only for a week or so. Sam Winchester was real.

"Sam -- "

Jensen opens his eyes -- just a crack -- and finds Sam there, looking down, all naked and hard muscles and scars and soft hazel eyes boring into his --

"Don't you die on me, Jensen," Sam says sternly, frowning at him with that intense gaze that is uniquely Sam's. "Don't you dare die on me, man."

Jensen smiles, just a little, because it's beyond wonderful to see Sam. Jensen has been missing him, these past couple of weeks.

"You were right," he says softly. "I never stopped loving him.

"You were right."


	4. Chapter 4

Voices. Jensen can hear voices. One is familiar -- one is Sam -- no, it's Jared. Jensen can hear the edge in the voice that tells him it's Jared.

The other voice is a woman's, but it's the gravelly, ornery voice of an old woman -- or a smoker. Both, maybe.

"We need to get all these wet, cold clothes off him," she's saying. "Warm him up slowly."

Jensen can smell wood burning, and it's a good smell. Comforting. He can see light through his eyelids too, but he's too tired to open his eyes. The snow has stopped, and somehow he knows he's inside, not lying in the soft snow anymore, but laid out on something firm and slightly elevated. A couch, maybe. Somebody is tugging and pulling on his clothes, and he wants to wake up enough to help but he just can't. He's so tired, so sleepy --

"I can't get his boots off," Jared is whining. "The laces are frozen solid."

"Here, I'll do it," the woman's voice says. "You go warm up your hands. Run them under cool water, then gradually warmer water. Not too hot! You'll literally burn yourself!"

Jensen senses Jared moving away and it makes him tense on the inside. He wants Jared to stay close. Some stranger is pulling his clothes off and he wants Jared, damn it.

"You boys really did a number on yourselves," the old woman is muttering as she pulls and tugs on Jensen's boots. "Another hour out in this and you'd both be frozen solid. Whose damn fool plan was it to leave your car again?"

"Mine," Jared answers from the kitchen sink, where he's running water over his hands. "We were trying to find cell service."

Somehow Jensen knows they're in a house. He remembers Jared saying something about seeing one, so now they must be inside it. And it must belong to this strange woman and she let them in, two tall frozen under-dressed dudes with icicles hanging off of them. She must've taken pity on them and actually allowed them to come into her home.

What the hell is she doing living up here in these woods, anyway?

"Well, you're lucky you found my place, that's all I can say." She's finally got Jensen's boots off, peels the socks off after. "Your friend here is on the edge of losing his toes."

She does something else, down at his feet, and Jensen thinks he hears water splashing, then he feels pressure, so maybe she's wrapping his feet in a wet wash cloth or something.

"I don't have a real way to treat hypothermia except to get dry clothes and blankets on him and hope for the best," she says. "He probably needs to be in a hospital, but you boys can't go anywhere until this storm stops. Where are you from, anyway?"

"Texas," Jared says, and his voice is closer now, so Jensen relaxes a little, knowing he's right there, tugging on his jacket, sitting Jensen up as he pulls it off, laying him down gently so he can pull off his button-down.

"Two Texas boys lost in a Washington snowstorm," the old woman is muttering. "Now I've heard everything."

Her voice is moving away, muttering about getting more blankets, and Jared is working on Jensen's jeans, trying to get his freezing fingers to work so he can get the button undone, pull down the zipper.

Jensen opens his eyes. There's no way he can sleep through Jared taking his pants off. Been waiting for -- well, for fucking-ever -- for that to happen.

Jared looks up, meets his eyes, smiles a little, looking all nervous and anxious. His hair is wet and his face is red with cold but the icicles are gone. His own clothes look pretty wet though, and it's obvious he needs to get out of his own wet clothes but he's tending to Jensen first and it makes Jensen's chest ache.

"Hey," he croaks out, trying to smile, reaching down to cover Jared's hands with his own. The old woman has wrapped his hands in what looks like strips of old wet dishtowels, and he can't feel a thing so it's a useless gesture, but Jared gets it. He stops what he's doing for a minute, takes a long shaky breath and closes his eyes.

"Thought you were dying, Jen," he breathes quietly. "Thought you were gonna die out there and leave me."

He opens his eyes, finds Jensen still gazing at him, and that's when Jared starts to shiver.

"Here, let me do that," the voice of the old woman says, and then she moves into Jensen's view and she's this little wizened thing in jeans and a plaid flannel shirt and almost-white hair with these piercing blue eyes and her arms full of blankets.

"Well look who's awake!" she exclaims when she sees Jensen looking up at her. "And isn't he a handsome one. Well, that's something. It must be my birthday."

She puts the blankets down, pushes Jared aside, unbuttons and unzips Jensen's jeans and pulls them off with more strength than a woman her size should have.

"Don't worry," she assures Jensen, as if he had it in him to resist. "I have two sons and I've had two husbands, so there's nothing I haven't already seen.

"There, now we can get these blankets on him," she mutters, pulling blankets up and over and around Jensen, tucking them in as tightly as she can without rubbing on his skin.

Not that he can feel a thing anyway.

"Now you -- " she glances up at Jared as she's tucking. "You get your wet clothes off. Strip down to your tee-shirt, your shorts -- just like Romeo here -- then you can get under the covers with him and you two can just warm each other up. That's the best way. No warm bath yet -- this fella's too sleepy for that, plus the shock might give him a heart-attack. So just body heat for awhile. You can sleep. I'll make you some warm soup for when you wake up."

Jared's already pulling his wet clothes off, and Jensen's drifting in and out of sleep, half-watching because he really doesn't want to miss Jared getting undressed in front of him, but he's so sleepy --

"Thank you, Ms. -- " Jared hesitates, obviously doesn't know her name, and she fills in as she heads into the kitchen.

"Winchester," the old woman says. "Like the rifle. Donna Winchester."

Now Jensen can pass out.

*

He wakes up because his skin is on fire. Literally. All over.

Jensen tries to move his arms and legs but he's pinned down, immovable. He's wrapped up in blankets and Jared, whose arms and legs are all around him, holding him close against his ridiculously over-heated tree-trunk of a body, sound asleep with the blankets around them both.

It should be hot, should be Jensen's best fuckin' wet-dream ever, but Jensen's in so much pain he can't squeeze even an ounce of pleasure out of this. The fire feels like it's under his skin, burning its way out -- no, more like fire ants, scratching their way out -- either way it's what he imagines Hell feels like and it's fuckin' awful.

"Mrumpf," he tries to curse, tries to push against Jared's huge, sleeping frame, feels tears smarting his eyes and running down his cheeks and the salt stings like a son-if-a-bitch. "Goddamn it!"

Jensen's lips are cracked and painful, his cheeks and chin and nose feel like they're being rubbed with sandpaper -- no, raw sand. And when he tries to wiggle his way out of Jared's embrace it feels like his skin is rubbing off.

"Fuck, Jay! Wake up! Fuck!"

Then Jared moves and it's even worse; Jensen can't control the scream that rises out of his throat and Jared's eyes snap open and his face is literally right there, so that Jensen is pretty sure Jared had his chin resting on Jensen's head and they were sleeping with Jensen's face pretty much pressed into Jared's warm throat only now he's like a furnace and Jensen feels consumed by heat and it's too much -- he's suffocating and burning up and the ants are crawling all over him, stinging and biting and --

"Wuh -- "

Jared blinks, moves awkwardly, seems to understand that Jensen is in serious pain -- finally! -- and moves his gargantuan limbs so that he's getting up off the couch backwards, murmuring "damn it, oh god, sorry, shit, fuck" and blushing all over himself like he's beyond embarrassed to wake up to find himself wrapped around Jensen like a giant squid.

He stumbles a little and ends up on his ass on the floor, and Jensen gets a glimpse of the source of Jared's embarrassment in the rather sizable tent in Jared's shorts before Jared grabs a blanket to cover himself, cursing again.

If Jensen wasn't in so much pain he would probably say something snarky and smirky, and it's tempting even though Jensen can't think straight because the ants are literally playing lawn croquet just under the surface of his skin --

"How're you boys doing in here?"

It's Mrs. Winchester, bless her bat-shit-crazy little heart, standing in the doorway with two cups of something steaming in her hands.

Jared looks up at her from his sitting position on the floor -- now he's cross-legged and has the blanket in his lap -- and he's using that Sam Winchester sincerity thing and it makes him look so goddamn cute Jensen wants to puke (except the ants are still marching seventeen-thousand by seventeen-thousand so it's kinda hard) --

"I made you some soup," the old woman is saying, coming into the room and setting the mugs down on the coffee table. She looks at Jensen, who is wincing and sweating with pain, and murmurs, "Well, you're looking better. I'll bet it hurts, doesn't it?"

Goddamn right it does, Jensen thinks but is too consumed with his efforts to avoid screaming in agony to say anything coherent.

"I'll get you some Tylenol," Mrs. Winchester -- Donna, his brain provides helpfully -- says. "Now that your blood is moving again you can try sipping this soup, warming yourself up on the inside. Take it slow, though. You don't want to overdo it."

She looks down at Jared and shakes her head.

"You did good, son. His skin is looking better. Now that the feeling is back he's gonna be very sensitive for awhile, so don't touch him. Any friction on his skin will cause terrible pain. But pain is a good thing. As long as there's pain, the nerves are still functioning."

She smiles at Jensen.

"Which is a good thing, beautiful, because we wouldn't want the doctors to have to cut off any of those perfect features now, would we?"

Jensen stares at her, tries to say something but his lips are cracked and the ants are tap-dancing on his face now.

He's relieved when she leaves, comes back in a few minutes with the pills and a glass of water, hands them to Jared.

"Have him drink something first," she instructs. "He's dehydrated. Then he can take the pills and sip the soup if he's up to it. I'm going to bed, but if you boys need anything, you just holler. I'm a pretty light sleeper these days, have been ever since my Jack passed away."

"Thank you, Ms. Winchester," Jared remembers his manners, and the old woman smiles approvingly.

"It's Mrs.," she corrects. "Proud to be Mrs. John Henry Winchester, I'll tell you. Love of my life, best thing that ever happened to me, marrying that man, even if it took most of my life to find him."

The old woman shakes her head, smiling at memories and only half-aware that anyone's listening.

"We found each other late in life, my Jack and me," she explains. "Both of us married and divorced, six kids between us, all grown now. I have eight grandchildren, he has two. We were old already -- in our sixties -- but we both knew it when we met. This was the one. This was finally the one we were both meant to be with."

She glances at Jared, then at Jensen, and a little smile touches her lips.

"You're both young," she says almost wistfully. "You don't yet see how short life is. When I was your age, I'm not sure I would've recognized Jack like I did when I got older. I was so full of myself, believing I was something or somebody, and a man like Jack who was so simple and steady and good -- I just wouldn't have realized how special that is. I thought I needed Heathcliff. I thought I needed some star-crossed passionate tragedy."

She shakes her head, looks at them both, and Jensen's trying to listen -- really, he is! But the ants --

The old woman startles a little, yanking herself out of her own memories. She makes a dismissive gesture and turns to leave the room.

"I'm off to bed," she says. "You two need your rest too. Just holler if you need anything. I'll leave the fire going -- you're welcome to keep feeding it if you want to. You know a little about wood stoves?"

She spends another minute or two showing Jared how to stoke the fire, then leaves them alone again, casting one last glance at Jensen, her expression speculative and pensive.

"You really are the prettiest thing I ever saw," she mutters, half to herself. "God's gift, no doubt about that."

She winks at Jared, and Jensen wonders if he got it wrong and she actually does know who they are.

Because up until that moment he was pretty sure she didn't have a clue about them. And why would she? There's no t.v. in the house, she's not part of the demographic their show appeals to -- well, apart from being female, of course -- and she seems to be completely unself-conscious about the fact that her name, and her husband's name, are too coincidental to be real.

Just fiction being stranger than life again, Jensen thinks. Nothing new there.

It's twenty minutes after the Tylenol finally kicks in and Jensen's managed to sip a little of the soup that the ants finally settle down and let him fall heavily, deeply, and blissfully asleep.

*

He sleeps for hours.

At some point Jensen becomes conscious enough to hear Jared and the old woman talking. She's telling Jared about her husband, who looked like Clint Eastwood and died of a sudden heart-attack five years ago, after ten years of marriage. He was a former rancher and farmer whose family had been original pioneers to this area in the 1850s, but he had lost the farm in the early sixties and moved his family to Portland, where he became an executive with the power company, a job he hated. After his divorce he retired early, moved back to the area his family had first homesteaded, built this cabin and became a beekeeper along with his youngest son, who had inherited the business from his maternal grandfather.

Donna's story was different. She had been an actress of some success, had lived twenty-five years in Los Angeles before moving home to the Seattle area, where her sister still lived. There she had met Jack Winchester, and her life had forever changed. Now she lives alone in the house they had shared for ten years, driving down to the public library in town for audio books, which she listens to as she paints and knits and does her housework. Audio books are the best, she tells Jared, because they're performed by actors who have wonderful read-aloud voices. She has several she listens to over and over, but one of her favorites is "A Christmas Carol," by Charles Dickens, read by Patrick Stewart.

"Now there's an actor whose voice I will never get tired of listening to," she tells Jared.

Besides, her eyes are getting bad, so it's easier for her to listen to the books than to read them.

"They keep me company," she says. "It's like having someone else in the house."

At some point she asks Jared what he does, and Jared tells her.

"Well, that explains the pretty faces," she nods. "And why you too are both so skinny. What t.v. shows have you been in? Not that I would know them -- I haven't watched t.v. in fifteen years, at least. And it's been longer than that since I was in the business myself."

Jared briefly explains about the show, and she's impressed.

"You two are the leads?" she murmurs appreciatively. "That's a gig that's hard to get. Congratulations."

"Yeah," Jared's soft voice is warming Jensen's soul, and he's only half-listening to the words. "Here's the weird thing. Our characters are Sam and Dean Winchester. In the show. Our father is John Winchester."

Donna is silent for a moment, taking that in. Jensen can hear a metallic clicking sound, and he's pretty sure she's knitting.

"Well, isn't that something," she says finally. "You know what they say about coincidences."

"No, what?" Jared asks.

"They're spiritual puns," Donna nods sagely. "God's having a little joke here. Looks like this whole experience was designed to teach you two a lesson."

"A lesson?" Jared sounds confused. "About what? How not to get lost in a snowstorm?"

"Maybe," Donna says with what sounds like a small smile. "If there's one thing I've learned over the past few years, it's never to take anything for granted. It's all a gift. Be grateful. Don't let the good things pass you by. And don't miss the most important thing of all, because it's probably right under your nose and you're too busy taking it for granted to recognize it for what it is."

"Huh," Jared's nodding, and Jensen almost opens his eyes because he sorta wants to see Jared's face right now, to see whether he's looking at Jensen.

He thinks maybe he is.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here there be lotsa sex. Just so you know!

When Jensen wakes up again it's daylight, but still snowing. The white-out outside the windows is still blowing, and he pulls the blankets around himself instinctively as he moves to sit up, holding his head against the throbbing ache there.

Jared's asleep, sprawled across an armchair on the other side of the room, his head tipped back, exposing his long neck, covered with another day's beard. He's wearing some loose-fitting jeans that are too short for him, a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a pullover sweater and heavy wool socks.

He looks a little ridiculous in the ill-fitting clothes, but it warms Jensen's chest to see him looking so vulnerable and wiped out. It's a rare thing to see his hyper-energetic co-star actually sleeping, and Jensen doesn't mind the view one bit.

He reaches for the glass of water on the table, wincing against the soreness in his muscles, the tingling in his fingers and toes. He holds one hand up in front of his face, wiggles the fingers experimentally. Everything still works, he's grateful to see, and he can even feel the tips of his fingers. At least on the right hand. The left is calloused from guitar playing, so that's just normal. The fingers look a little red with cold, and they itch a little, but it's not bad. Same with his toes, he finds as he lifts the blanket to take a look. Somebody put heavy wool socks on his feet, and they actually feel warm, not too itchy or tingly either, so he figures he's good.

Dodged the bullet. Again.

Luck does seem to follow him around, Jensen thinks, considering all the good things he has to be grateful for.

Nothing like poor old Dean Winchester, the schmuck.

"You're awake!"

It's Donna, coming into the room from the kitchen with a plate of sandwiches. She smiles at him, puts down the plate and a glass of milk on the coffee table.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," Jensen croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. "Better. Uh -- thank you. For everything."

Donna shrugs, gestures dismissively.

"You don't have to thank me," she insists. "Nobody but a monster would've let you boys freeze to death out there. I'm just glad you found my house. That feels like some kind of miracle, I gotta say. I'm back from the road a ways. Nobody ever finds this place."

Jensen reaches for the milk, takes a sip, realizes he's starving and puts it down so he can reach for the sandwich. The blankets slip down and he realizes he's not wearing a shirt. He doesn't remember getting that naked, and he blushes a little.

"Your color is coming back," Donna notes, then recognizes his discomfort for modesty and smiles. "Your clothes are in the dryer. So are his, so I gave him some of my husband's old clothes. I'll go get you some if you're ready to get dressed."

"Thank you," Jensen says through a mouthful of the best sandwich he's ever tasted in his entire life, even if it does have turkey and cheese on it.

Donna smiles, nods toward Jared.

"He was up most of the night, just watching you," she says softly, so as not to wake Jared. "You're pretty important to him, anybody can see that."

She leaves again, to rustle up some clothes for Jensen, and he finds himself enjoying his non-vegan meal way too much, so that he's not even aware that Jared's awake and staring at him until he finally lifts his eyes from his plate as he finishes the food and reaches for the milk again.

"You're eating meat," Jared states, like it isn't obvious. "And dairy."

"Starving," Jensen answers defensively. "Starving men can't afford to be picky about what they eat."

Jared snorts, shakes his head, and mutters something about how he "never believed it anyway."

Donna comes back with a shirt and sweater and another pair of jeans for Jensen, then leaves again, making some comment about trying the phone to see if it's working yet.

"She has a phone?" Jensen asks as he pulls on the clothes, wincing only a little as they rub against his sensitive skin.

"Land line," Jared nods. "It's been down, though. She thinks she can take her snowmobile and head down the mountain for help once the snow stops."

Jensen gazes silently out the window for a minute, then looks back at Jared, clears his throat.

"I guess you sort of saved my life last night, like the song says," he notes awkwardly. "Thanks."

"You don't ever have to say that," Jared deadpans. "Not to me."

Jensen feels his face crack into a smile, looks down at his hands, shakes his head a little.

"Yeah, well, I do, actually, because you're not Sam, and you didn't have to do what you did."

"Yeah, I did," Jared answers firmly. "Jensen, I know I've been an asshole these past few years, but you have to understand, I never stopped caring about you. I -- "

He hesitates for a second, and Jensen looks up, watches Jared's face as he struggles to find words to express his mixed-up feelings.

"You are probably the most important person in my life, okay?" he says finally, catching Jensen's eyes so he knows Jared's being completely honest. "I think you always have been. I've just been too stupid and stubborn to admit it. Especially to myself. So -- "

Jared huffs out a laugh, stares out the window for a minute as he composes himself, and Jensen just watches him, thinking he will never grow tired of watching him.

"So this is me apologizing, okay? This is me saying I'm sorry for being such a jerk all those years. It was a really bad habit and I let it get too easy and it was just wrong, man. And I'm sorry if I hurt you -- "

"Shut up," Jensen says, putting a hand up to stop Jared's babbling, which is getting damned embarrassing. "You sound like a Taylor Swift song now."

Jared's face collapses into the most glorious grin, all dimples and sunshine, and Jensen has to struggle to keep from smiling right along with him.

Jared shakes his head, still grinning shyly for another minute, then lifts his eyes to Jensen. His eyes soften when he reads Jensen's expression, and he nods almost imperceptibly.

"So we're good?" he asks.

Jensen nods, squaring his jaw and raising his eyebrows in a look he's fairly sure Jared knows well.

"We're good," he agrees firmly, and he means it.

*

The snow finally stops mid-afternoon, and Donna bundles up and heads out on her snowmobile, leaving them with more sandwiches and instructions to keep trying the phone but for godssake to stay put.

Jared and Jensen play cards, Jensen does his yoga exercises, Jared goes outside -- bundled in appropriate borrowed outerwear this time -- and brings in more wood for the fire. They eat sandwiches and drink water, re-hydrating themselves thoroughly. They sit close at the kitchen table and rub shoulders when they move.

Jensen can't imagine sleeping anymore, but when Jared starts reading aloud to him from a collection of short stories by Raymond Carver he nods off, wakes up an hour later with his head on Jared's shoulder, almost cuddling with Jared on the couch in front of the wood stove.

It's getting dark, but Donna still hasn't returned.

Then the phone rings. The land-line phone in Donna's kitchen.

It's Donna, and she's fine, but the mountain road is closed and they're not letting her come back up, so she's going to stay in town for the night with her sister.

"There's plenty of food and water," she tells them. "And even a little whiskey in the cupboard, if you're up to it. I'll be up with the snow-plow first thing in the morning. You boys get your rest. You're welcome to sleep on my bed if you want; it'll probably be more comfortable than the couch."

Jared puts the phone down, turns and looks at Jensen, standing in the doorway listening to Jared's side of the conversation.

"Phone's up," he says unnecessarily. "We should call our families, let them know we're okay."

Jensen calls his mom, who is intensely relieved to hear from him; the speculation about what happened to them has been making her imagine the worst. Jensen feels terrible for putting her through that, explains about the snowstorm and the wrong turn and the dead cell-phones and Donna Winchester, and it's almost too much for Donna Ackles to take in. So Jensen promises he'll call her first thing when he gets back to civilization tomorrow, and hands the phone to Jared.

After Jared calls his folks he makes himself and Jensen another sandwich and they sit side-by-side on the couch, eating and listening to music on Donna's old-fashioned vinyl turntable. Their clothes have dried, but Jensen finds an old pair of sweatpants and a comfortable tee-shirt in Donna's drawers which must have belonged to her husband, who was clearly about Jensen's size. He finds a photograph of Jack Winchester on the bureau and studies it -- the long, lean, elderly gentleman looking back at him does indeed resemble Clint Eastwood; in the photograph he's carrying a rifle and looks defiantly into the camera, and Jensen is struck again by the weird way life and fiction seem to blend at times.

When he returns to the living room Jared is already into the whiskey. He pours a glass for Jensen and pulls out the scrapbook he found tucked into Donna's bookcase.

"Take a look at this."

He invites Jensen to join him on the couch with a pat to the place next to him, and Jensen complies, rubbing against Jared's shoulder as he takes the glass and sits down, letting Jared spread the book open across both their knees.

It's full of old newspaper and magazine clippings, along with a few publicity stills of a stunning young woman with strawberry-blond hair and blue eyes. Jensen stares at the photographs and sees the resemblance right away, recognizes the posed head-shots every actor is required to submit when going up for a role. The faded clippings go back to the late 1940s, when a young Donna Murray performed off-Broadway in New York, receiving rave reviews before obviously deciding -- or being told by somebody -- that she should be in Hollywood. The next few pages of the scrapbook contain call sheets for a variety of B-grade movies from the 1950s, most of which are long-forgotten now, black-and-white science-fiction films and second-rate detective and horror stories. Then, starting around 1954, there are clippings from local newspapers and magazines listing television programs, some mentioning a guest star named Donna Murray, some grainy photographs featuring television stages with a group of actors in costume, one of whom was probably Donna. Again, most of the shows are long-forgotten, second-rate and with short runs, but here and there is a mention of something impressive. Episodes of The Twilight Zone, Dragnet, and The Andy Griffith Show most notably.

In the sixties and seventies Donna's career was clearly winding down. She is mentioned in Variety as the wife of Walter Thomas, a studio executive for Twentieth-Century Fox, and they are pictured with their four children -- two girls and two boys. Donna still looks like a starlet, with all the trappings of the day -- perfect figure, perfect hair, perfect face, perfect posture and smile -- and she was clearly still working as a model and acting in commercials well into her forties. The last clipping in the book is of Donna posing for a magazine ad for Turbo-Clean, a floor-waxing product. The magazine is dated June, 1978, when Donna must have been about 46 years old.

"And that's all she wrote," Jared notes as he flips through the last few pages of the scrapbook, all empty and yellowing. He takes another sip of his whiskey as Jensen closes the book, feeling sad and reverent at the same time.

"So her marriage must've broken up right around that time," he suggests thoughtfully, taking a long sip of his own whiskey.

Jared nods.

"And then she moved here and started over," Jensen adds. "Brave lady."

"Her kids are probably still in California," Jared suggests. "It must make them crazy, her being a hermit in a cabin in the woods in Washington."

"If she was my mother I'd be a little afraid of her," Jensen admits. "She's pretty formidable. Maybe it's a good thing she moved so far away."

"Heh," Jared agrees with a chuckle, taking another sip of his drink.

He leans back against the couch, letting his knees splay open so that his left thigh is pressed to Jensen's, and Jensen resists the urge to pull away because it just feels so good. And because it feels like such a natural gesture, like Jared is just being comfortable, not sexual, and Jensen so much wants to be comfortable with Jared again, the way it used to be between them, all those years ago.

Before Jensen fucked it all to hell between them.

The whiskey is warming his insides and making everything a little hazy, but in a good way, and he barely notices when Jared slips his arm over the back of the couch, just leaning back and stretching his ginormous arms. And when Jared's left arm is suddenly warm against his shoulders because Jared has turned toward him a little, Jensen lets himself go with it and turns to meet Jared's eyes with a small, sad smile, still relaxed, still easy with the physical proximity that feels so normal again, thank God.

And when he holds Jared's gaze a moment longer than absolutely necessary, it still feels good, still feels like they're reclaiming that earlier bond, back when they were just good friends -- no, the best of friends. When they both felt they had found a kindred spirit and yeah, it was corny as hell but they were young and obviously had these unspoken, platonic crushes on each other and it made the job easier so they let it grow and grow and become something deeper until -- 

Jensen's not quite sure how Jared's face got so close, or how his hand is slowly sliding along Jensen's jaw, or how Jared's lowering his eyes to Jensen's lips and parting his own as if he had every intention of --

There's a split second when Jensen knows exactly what's happening, despite the whiskey and the euphoria of their newly reclaimed friendship -- Jensen knows exactly what's coming but he's letting it happen and the part of his brain that is screaming 'Yes! Finally!" is winning out over the years of self-discipline and denial and refusal to EVER go back to that other time, that moment when he had so badly screwed everything up between them.

But this time it's Jared who's leaning it, Jared who is holding Jensen's face steady so he could tilt his head to the right angle and slot their mouths together, and Jensen's letting him do it, knows with every fiber of his being that he's allowing Jared to kiss him, not resisting as he should, not protesting and pushing away.

The moment their lips meet, Jensen's propelled back to that other time, that moment when he initiated this with Jared, all those years ago, and the first electric shock of recognition -- the first aha! moment between them had confirmed everything Jensen had guessed to be true from the moment he first met Jared.

They were meant to be.

It's crazy; Jensen's told himself that often enough over the years. The hallucination of a sex-crazed overly-sensitive imagination -- Jensen's mother always warned him that his over-active imagination would get him trouble, and now it had. Now it had talked him into believing that Jared felt at least some of the connection, at least a little of the rightness of their finding each other. That the moment they met had driven a stake through Jared's heart too, had screamed in Jared's ear as loudly as it had in Jensen's -- THIS IS IT. HE'S THE ONE!

But when Jared pushed him away that time, horrified and repulsed and full of vitriol because Jared played football in high school in Texas and he was absolutely, definitely, one-hundred percent NOT GAY and he was full of disgust and anger and -- now Jensen recognized it for what it was -- sheer terror because somebody had actually assumed that he could be attracted to a man.

But now he's kissing Jensen, has in fact totally and completely initiated the kiss, and Jensen's letting it happen because -- OH GOD YES IT FEELS SO RIGHT -- even after all these years, it's so obviously what they were meant for.

Jensen lets his lips part as Jared pushes his tongue inside, deepening the kiss, licking into Jensen's mouth with increasing excitement, and Jensen lets him, allows Jared to maul his mouth, sloppy and desperate and needy, making sexy little moans deep in his throat. But when Jared finally comes up for air Jensen pulls back, slipping his hands through Jared's hair and holding his head so he could see his face.

"Hey, hey, hold on a minute," he murmurs, and his lips feel slick and swollen, just as Jared opens his lust-blown eyes, looking dazed and flushed, his lips parted and so, so pink and wet.

"What?" Jared gasps, trying to lean in again.

But Jensen holds his head, forces him to look up and meet Jensen's gaze.

"Are you sure, Jared?" Jensen says. "Are you sure this is what you want? Cuz last time I checked it pretty clearly wasn't. You sure this isn't the whiskey talkin'?"

"Jen -- please -- " Jared pants, his eyes fluttering closed, moving his hips unconsciously toward Jensen, and when Jensen lets his eyes drop for a moment he can see the evidence of Jared's need in the impressive bulge in his jeans.

"Yeah, I can see you're horny," Jensen nods. "But I need you to explain this to me, Jay. I need you to use your words, okay? Cuz this was not okay the last time I checked, and I'm not going down that road again. Okay? You get me?"

Jared swallows, close-mouthed, and nods, opening his eyes again to gaze steadily at Jensen, tries to get his thrusting hips under control.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I was a jerk," he breathes, clearly making an effort to steady himself. "I knew I liked girls cuz I'd always had girlfriends but until you it never occurred to me that I might like guys too. I just didn't know, and then -- when you kissed me -- Jensen, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. In six years. I think about you all the time, man. I just do. It's -- it's -- no matter how I tried getting you out of my system -- and I tried, goddamn it, because I knew I screwed up and I could never ask you to think about me like that again after what I did -- and it made me so angry and I took it out on you which was just so fucked up -- I'm so sorry, man -- "

The emotions are welling up in his eyes now, grief and desire all mixed together, and it makes Jensen's chest ache so he just leans in and presses his lips gently to Jared's, chaste and sweet.

"It's okay, Jay," he murmurs against Jared's lips. "I guess I always knew. I was just waiting for you, buddy. Always. Right here. I'm right here, Jay."

Jared's long moan is his only vocal response, and as Jensen tilts his head, tugs a little on Jared's hair, Jared is right there, leaning in, hungry mouth and tongue plunging into Jensen's, needy and pulsing with pent-up desire, huge long-fingered hands everywhere as the floodgates open and they go at it like they're literally starving.

Which, as Jensen considers with his last rational brain-cell, they sort of are, since this thing between them has been building for-fucking-ever.

Jared pushes Jensen back on the couch, his mouth leaving Jensen's only long enough to press his lips against Jensen's cheeks, his eyelids, the cleft in his chin, gulping in lungfuls of air before capturing Jensen's mouth again, tongue plunging deep inside, opening Jensen so wide his jaw begins to ache, mapping out every inch of the inside of Jensen's mouth with his long tongue.

Jensen spreads his legs as Jared wiggles his body between them then starts up a steady grinding against his groin as his huge hands hold Jensen's head, turning his face as Jared pulls back again, exposing Jensen's neck. Jared makes an incoherent growling noise as he buries his face in Jensen's throat, lips and teeth working at the tender skin below his ear, sucking marks into Jensen's neck that will be hard to explain away tomorrow but he doesn't care, lets Jared do it because it's Jared and he's finally here in his arms where he belongs.

Jared's hands are up under his shirt, thumbs rubbing over his nipples, hardening them, then Jared is shoving the shirt up to his armpits and Jensen raises his arms and scoots up so Jared can remove his shirt, then look down at him, sprawled out on his back with Jared's huge hands spread wide on his chest.

"So beautiful," Jared breathes as he gazes at Jensen, eyes heated and dark, cheeks flushed.

"Not so bad yourself," Jensen notes with a smirk, and Jared's face bursts forth in a dimpled grin that heats Jensen's chest as if it were made of sunshine. It's a cliche, he knows, but it's one that totally captures the blinding warmth of Jared's smile, and it's the most beautiful thing Jensen has ever seen. Makes his eyes water uncontrollably and his bottom lip quiver.

Jared lets the pad of his thumb trace the tattoo over Jensen's heart, his face melting into an expression of dazed wonder.

"You were really there," Jared breathes. It's a statement, rather than a question, and Jensen nods. "With him. With Sam. He's real."

Jensen searches Jared's face for a trace of sarcasm, but it's not there. He's just taking Jensen's word for it, sight unseen. However insane it may be, that other world exists somewhere, it parallels this one, and that's just how it is.

"How did Kripke know?" Jared wonders, and Jensen shakes his head.

"I don't think there's any way to explain it," he answers truthfully. "I don't think Eric had any idea. Maybe it wouldn't exist if he didn't create it. Maybe that's the catch-22. Or maybe it was always there, and Eric just got lucky."

"But Sam and Dean -- they're a thing over there?"

"Oh yeah," Jensen nods. "Definitely."

Jared shakes his head, lowers his mouth to the tattoo, traces it with his tongue carefully, reverently, as if it might still be painful (it isn't). When he lets his tongue wander across Jensen's chest, takes one beaded nipple into his mouth so he can suckle, Jensen can't prevent the stab of lust it sends shuddering through his body. He hears himself moan as he pushes up into Jared's mouth, then almost keens as Jared takes the nub between his teeth and tugs.

Jared's sliding one of his giant paws down between Jensen's legs, squeezing gently through the fabric, and Jensen bucks up into his grasp, increasing the friction and encouraging Jared's touch. Jared's mouth moves to Jensen's other nipple as his hand finds the waistband of the sweatpants and pushes underneath, ignoring his straining cock for a moment as his long fingers slip down behind his balls, find his hole, push against it with one dry finger.

"Fuck!"

Jensen's expletive bursts forth and his legs fall open. Jared withdraws his finger long enough to push Jensen's sweatpants off and Jensen kicks them to the floor, spreading his legs as Jared pushes one knee back, caressing his crack and pushing gently against his hole again.

"Is this what you want?" Jared murmurs, lifting his head from where he's still mouthing Jensen's chest, leaving marks across his pecs and belly. "Do you need me to fuck you, Jen?"

An incoherent gasp escapes Jensen's lips as his head falls back. He shuts his eyes against the need to come, to just shoot his wad all over Jared's chin and cheeks and mouth.

Jensen opens his eyes a crack, looks down at Jared looking up at him, almost loses it again.

"Take off your shirt," he rasps out. "Need to see you."

Jared kneels back between Jensen's legs and pulls his shirt off over his head, looks down at Jensen with a slight smirk.

"Fuck," Jensen groans, his hand finding his bursting cock reflexively as he gazes at the expanse of Jared's broad chest, his tight abs. His shoulders have beefed up again after his injury and he looks better than all of Jensen's wet dreams over the past six years -- looks even better than Sam Winchester, which shouldn't be possible.

"Now your jeans," Jensen gasps. "Wanna see all of you."

Jared obeys eagerly, and Jensen admires the way his arms bulge and strain as he undresses himself, gets a good glimpse of firm strong ass before Jared climbs back between his legs, thigh muscles flexing, cock straining.

Jared kneels up and takes his cock in his hand, smirking down at Jensen, who is stroking his own cock without even being aware of it.

"So, who's bigger?" he asks with a wink, sliding his long fingers up and down his own hard length. "Sam or me?"

"Oh God," Jensen breathes. "Don't ask me that." You two could be twins, he thinks, except for the scars.

"Think you could take us both?" Jared suggests, letting his tongue slip lasciviously along his bottom lip.

Jensen closes his eyes against the sudden stab of lust caused by Jared's words, bucks up into his own hand.

"You could suck my dick while he fucks your ass," Jared suggests darkly. "Then we could switch."

Jensen squeezes his dick, holds his breath, fighting to hold back the urge to come.

"Jesus, Jared," he breathes out when he's got control again. "Shut the fuck up."

Jared gives a low chuckle, lets his eyes wander down Jensen's body, stroking himself almost languidly.

"Imagine you like this all the time, man," he murmurs. "All spread out and hot for me. Never thought I'd really get it. Thought I'd scared you off for good."

Jensen looks up at him, sees the wonder glittering in Jared's dark eyes, nothing like Sam's tragic misery, Sam's sad longing for his missing brother, Jensen's inability to fill that gaping hole a haunting reminder of the hole in his own life -- a six-foot-four man-sized hole which is suddenly filled with this flesh-and-blood miracle kneeling between his legs --

Jensen reaches down, grabs Jared's wrist.

"Come here," he orders, and Jared obeys, letting go of his dick and crawling back up Jensen's body, pressing himself alongside Jensen and pulling him in at the same time with one huge, powerful arm around Jensen's waist, the other hand cupping Jensen's face as their lips meet for another long, soul-wrenching kiss.

For awhile they grind together, making out like their lives depend on it, like they've been waiting all their lives for this moment and maybe they almost let it go by and they need to make up for all the lost time but they've got the rest of their lives and --

"You got any stuff?" Jared gasps when he comes up for air, biting and sucking big wet kisses along Jensen's stubbled jaw.

"Not exactly expecting this," Jensen growls back, arching his neck so Jared can mouth his adam's apple, lick along his neck to his ear.

"So we bareback then?" Jared grunts into Jensen's ear.

"Ha," Jensen huffs out a laugh. "Not a chance."

"Blow jobs then," Jared declares, capturing Jensen's mouth again. Their tongues battle for dominance, Jared's giant hands pawing at Jensen's hair and face, rubbing his thumb along Jensen's cheekbones as he mauls his mouth eagerly.

Jensen arches his body into Jared's, cries out as Jared releases his mouth and slides his hand down between their bellies, grasping Jensen's dick and thumbing the slit as he kisses Jensen's throat, then his collarbone. Jared moves backwards down Jensen's body, kissing his sternum, then his belly, kneeling between Jensen's legs again with his goal fairly obvious, jacking Jensen's dick the whole time.

Jensen opens his eyes so he can watch as Jared's mouth closes around the head of his cock, sucking gently before letting it go with a pop so he can lick down the length, curl his tongue around the underside and into the slit.

"Fuck!"

Jensen arches his back as the sensations stab through his body, lets his legs fall open even wider to give Jared room to maneuver.

Jared licks down Jensen's dick to his balls, backing himself off the edge of the couch as he sucks first one, then the other into his mouth, rolling them on his tongue before letting them go. He kneels on the floor and pushes Jensen's legs back, exposing his ass-crack, licking down the center until he reaches his destination. eliciting more curses as he pushes his tongue into Jensen's hole, then starts a steady rhythm of tongue-fucking that makes Jensen writhe and grab his dick, cursing in gibberish as Jared reaches for Jensen's cock, pushing his hand away, jacking it in time with his tongue thrusts.

"Jared -- let me suck your -- Jay -- "

But Jared has his own ideas, using the flat of his tongue to completely lubricate Jensen's hole before adding one long, lean finger, thoroughly slick with spit. Once he's got his finger inserted in Jensen's hole, stretching and moving until he's got a rhythm going, then Jared finally inserts another finger and begins scissoring, slowly and carefully at first, dragging his mouth away so he can lick Jensen's balls again, tongue at his perineum until Jensen's a writhing, moaning mess, begging Jared to let him suck his giant dick already.

"Gonna make you come first, Jen," Jared promises as he closes his mouth around the head of Jensen's throbbing cock, then lowers his mouth on it, hollowing out his cheeks and opening his throat till Jensen's almost completely enclosed between Jared's pink, wet lips.

The tight heat of it has Jensen gasping, fighting the urge to thrust, and when his dick hits the back of Jared's throat, making his eyes fill with tears, it's quite possibly the hottest thing Jensen has ever seen.

Then Jared lifts his eyes, catches Jensen's gaze, and thrusts his fingers deep into Jensen's body, long fingers of his other hand wrapped around the base of Jensen's cock and Jensen just loses it -- makes himself hold Jared's gaze as he starts to black out with the intensity -- tries to choke out a warning but Jared is pistoning his fingers and jacking his dick and sucking like there's no tomorrow and --

Jensen hears himself making that long, deep, guttural groan that he can't control when he comes -- and comes, and comes -- because this is Jared and he's finally finally FINALLY having sex with Jared Padalecki and Jensen wishes Sam Winchester was here now so he could just see it.

No, not that. Oh god, he really could not deal with that right now.

"I think I love you," Jared whispers in his ear, and Jensen startles a little because he didn't realize he'd blacked out so long that Jared had time to climb up and press his body against Jensen's again.

"Jay -- " Jensen breathes out, so boneless he can hardly move, drifting in and out of consciousness as he tries to focus on Jared's face hovering over his.

"I think I've always been in love with you," Jared's admission just spills out of him as Jensen tries to focus, blinks once or twice before his eyes slide shut again and he's drifting, just drifting after that incredible blow job -- never had a blow job that good, he reflects distantly as he feels Jared's lips on his, tastes himself in Jared's mouth.

"I think I just didn't believe I could be in love with a guy," Jared says. "All my life I assumed I was straight. I mean, I could see when a guy was attractive, sure, but I figured everybody did that, right? But you -- you were beyond perfect. When I first saw you, I got a hard-on right away. It's never gone away. Jensen, I still have the hard-on I got for you the first time I met you. Do you know how much it hurts by now?"

Jensen blinks, tries harder to focus. He knows he should reciprocate, reaches half-heartedly down to Jared's dick.

Jared's hand covers his and the younger man shakes his head.

"Later," he whispers, stays hovering over Jensen, just gazing down at him like he can't stop staring, like the secrets of the universe can be found in Jensen Ackles' face.

"I mean, did you always know you were gay, Jen? Did you?"

He seems to be asking a serious question, and Jensen does the best he can to think clearly, nods.

"Yep, always," he answers, his lips strangely numb, limbs so heavy he can hardly feel them.

"Wow," Jared breathes. "I just thought -- I mean, it was so confusing when you kissed me -- I'd never thought -- but of course I couldn't stop getting hard for you, so I guess I should've figured it out, but -- "

"Jared," Jensen interrupts, reaching up to press his fingers against Jared's lips. "Can we talk about this in the morning? Can we?"

Jared stops talking, staring down at Jensen with a look at once so helpless, so overwrought and full of confusion it breaks Jensen's heart. Poor kid, thirty-two years old and in the midst of a sexual identity crisis -- Jensen reaches up, cups Jared's face, pulls him in for a long, languid kiss.

"It's okay, buddy, it's just me," Jensen murmurs when he releases Jared's mouth, lets him come up for air so he's just staring down at Jensen, lips kiss-swollen and eyes dazed and tear-filled. "I always knew you'd come around. I was just waiting for you."

Jared stares then, disbelief and something like terror flitting across his soft, hazel eyes as he frowns, trying to take in what Jensen's saying.

"You are such an asshole," he breathes out incredulously, and Jensen feels his face crack into a jaw-breaking smile.

"Takes one to know one," he answers smoothly, softly, so that Jared can see the humor and fondness in his gaze, triggering that blinding grin that Jensen needed -- oh, so needed!

Then Jensen is reaching up and pulling Jared down so he can reach his lips again, silencing any further pronouncements or confessions or sarcastic comments -- just making Jared kiss him so that he remembers who had this thing right in the first place, how long it took Jared to figure out what he really wanted, and whose assessment of the situation between them was right on the money from the get-go.

Because Jensen is just too tired to discuss it anymore, too tired to go over the sixty-dozen opportunities for mind-blowing sex that they missed over the past six years.

Yeah, not making that mistake again.

*

Some time in the night Jensen wakes up to the sounds of Jared jerking off; he's kneeling between Jensen's legs again, just jacking himself as he looks down at Jensen's nakedness, shaking the couch with his movements, making delicious little breathy panting noises.

As sleepy as he is, Jensen can't just watch. His dick is hard and twitching at the sight of Jared and all of his incredible muscles and sweat-slicked skin on his knees, and he reaches down, slips his hand over Jared's as he scoots himself up, then leans down so he can press his lips to the seeping head of Jared's enormous dick.

"Fuck," Jared spits, clenching the base of his dick and shuddering with tension. "Your mouth, Jen. Fuck!"

Jensen's on his knees now, mouth still attached to Jared's cock. He pushes Jared back so he's on his back on the couch, long legs spread wide, and Jensen's the one kneeling, pushing Jared's hand aside so he can grasp the base of Jared's dick and show the boy how to get the job done right.

Jared swears like a sailor, slides his hands through Jensen's hair, bucks his hips up so that Jensen almost chokes and his eyes water. This dick is so huge and Jensen's jaws are pretty flexible but he's not sure how much longer he can take it --

"Fuhhhhhk!" Jared tenses for a split second, not nearly long enough for Jensen to remove his mouth before it's filled with the warm, briny taste of Jared's come and Jared's holding Jensen's head so all he can do is swallow, and he knows he's fucked but now they're even 'cuz Jared swallowed his so at least now they're both fucked.

So he swallows every last drop, just suckles the hell out of Jared's softening dick until it slips out of his mouth and Jared is breathing hard, murmuring his name and pulling him up so they're pressed chest to chest again, Jared eagerly kissing him, licking his mouth and murmuring against his lips.

"Best thing ever," Jared slips his arms around Jensen, hugs him close so that Jensen's face is crushed against his throat and he's tasting sweat and Jared. "So amazing. You are so amazing."

"Well, you'd better be clean," Jensen mutters. "Cuz I know I am. Not that you bothered to ask."

"No, it's okay, I'm clean," Jared assures him. "Gen and I were completely monogamous, and I haven't -- I mean, there hasn't been anyone else since she and I -- I mean, it's okay. I'm clean."

"Hmmm," Jensen murmurs sleepily, letting his eyes slip closed again as he breathes in Jared's warm, damp skin and decides he could definitely sleep this way, pretty sure he's halfway there.

But Jared isn't done talking, of course.

"Hey, Jensen? It may be too soon for you, but I'm pretty sure this is it for me. Okay? Just so you know. I want this -- I want us. For good. I'm thirty-two now, I'm not a kid anymore. And I -- You're it for me, man. Just so you know."

"Hmmmm," Jensen shifts closer, slips one leg between Jared's legs, snuggles his face against Jared's throat, presses his lips there.

"Jensen? I mean it," Jared tries again. "This isn't just a one-time thing for me. If you'll have me, this is what I want. For good."

Jensen pats Jared's cheek and presses a kiss against his throat.

"Shut up and sleep now, Jare," he murmurs.

Jared's arms tighten around him and he nuzzles the top of Jensen's head.

"'Kay," he sighs. "Okay, Jen."


	6. Chapter 6

When Jensen wakes up it's cold. They've let the fire go out, and even with the storm finally passed and early-morning sunlight streaming in the windows, it's cold, cold, cold.

Jared's like a furnace pressed along the front of his body, but his back, even with the blankets over them, is just too damn cold.

Jared stirs, and Jensen can tell the minute he comes to consciousness because he stiffens a little, momentarily disoriented before he remembers.

"Oh," he sighs then, sounding happy if groggy, and tightens his arms around Jensen, letting one large hand wander down his back to the curve of his ass. "Hey."

Jensen's cheek must feel like sandpaper against Jared's collarbone, so he soothes the rash with his lips, running his tongue over the mark he left there last night.

Last night.

Oh god, last night they had sex. Well, blow jobs with finger penetration, but still --

Jensen's so hard he's afraid his dick might slice a piece out of Jared's hip.

Jared feels it, slips his hand down between their bodies, gets a grip on Jensen's dick, making him gasp.

"You want me to take care of this?" he smiles into Jensen's hair.

Jensen tips his head back so he can look up, meet Jared's heated gaze, dimpled smile a little crooked with sleep and sex. His hair is a tangled mess, and Jensen decides he needs to make it that way more often.

"It's cold," he notes. "Fire went out."

"I think I can fix that," Jared teases, and before Jensen can protest he's scooting down the couch and taking Jensen's cock in his mouth and it's like last night all over again and Jensen just moans and writhes and lets Jared warm him up, swallow him down like he's the best-tasting treat ever.

Afterwards, Jared tucks the blankets around Jensen and lets him doze while he jumps up, pulls his clothes on, and gets the fire going again in the wood stove, then finds something for them to eat and brings it back to the couch, sitting on the floor with his back against it while he eats.

Jensen runs his fingers through Jared's hair, combing out the tangles and feeling ridiculously lazy and content, not even hungry yet, just basking in the warm glow of this new thing between them as the stove slowly warms the room.

When Jared finishes his food he turns to Jensen, his eyes sparkling.

"Come on, sleepy-head," he teases. "The snow-plow will be here soon. What d'ya say to a little hand-job in the shower?"

"Oh god," Jensen groans, closing his eyes and throwing his arm over them dramatically. "You're insatiable."

"Pretty much," Jared agrees cheerfully.

So they have more mind-blowing sex in the shower and afterwards they get dressed but they can't keep their hands off each other and neither can stop smiling and the sound of the snowplow outside is the only thing that prevents them from going at it again.

They watch from the window as the plows go by, first one clearing one side of the road, the one behind clearing the opposite side. Right behind them comes a pick-up truck with a plow hitched to the front, a snowmobile in the back. Jensen watches as the pick-up turns into Donna Winchester's driveway, plow lowering to push the snow aside as it comes toward the house.

Jensen feels Jared's hand on his lower back, warm and possessive as Jared stands so close behind him it's like being enveloped in a cocoon of heated reassurance and constant promise.

Jensen feels like the Grinch, the way his heart just keeps expanding. He's sure it's changing something fundamental inside him, this miracle that is Jared's sudden admission of love and devotion. It doesn't feel real. It's like waking up in Wonderland.

The pick-up pulls up to the door and now Jensen can see Donna and another woman in the cab. Donna waves when she sees him and Jared in the window, and Jensen raises his hand to gesture back as Donna and the strange woman get out of the cab, wade through the deep snow to the front porch, fling open the door.

And just like that, reality shatters the illusion of Jensen's perfect little dream-world, the one where he and Jared finally find each other and live happily ever after.

Because Jensen can see in Donna's face that she knows. She knows Jared and Jensen are together. She's always known, since she first let them into the house. It's not a secret anymore, if it ever was.

"Well look at you," Donna's blue eyes sparkle as she stomps the snow off her boots. "You're up and about and looking mighty fine, I must say."

She turns her gaze on Jared and nods.

"Good work, Texas," she says with a smile. "You fixed your friend. Doesn't look like he'll need a hospital after all."

She turns to the other woman, starts to introduce her, but the other woman is just staring at Jared and Jensen with that look they've both seen about a bazillion times --

"Oh my god," she stutters. "No way."

"This is my niece, Kathy," Donna says, frowning. "Kathy, what's wrong with you? Say hello to Mr. Texas and his friend here."

"You -- you're -- " is about all Kathy can say, and Jensen smiles reassuringly, puts his hand out, feeling Jared's hand rub his back slightly.

"Nice to meet you, Kathy," he says, waiting patiently for her to get herself under control.

"Oh my god," she says again, then glances down at his hand and finally manages to reach out and take it. "You're -- you're him. You're really him."

"Probably," Jensen agrees, giving her his most disarming smile.

Donna is still staring at her, and Kathy finally recovers enough to shake Jensen's hand, then remembers she shouldn't just keep holding it indefinitely, so she lets it go.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she mutters. "It's just -- Aunt Donna, don't you know who these guys are?"

"Well, my memory isn't what it used to be," Donna admits. "I'm sure they told me their names, I just forgot. They're from Texas, I remember that."

"This is -- they're Sam and Dean," Kathy explains. "I mean, they play Sam and Dean. Just about my favorite t.v. characters of all time. I can't believe you're standing in my aunt's living room. This is -- this is epic."

Kathy blushes, finally tears her eyes away from Jensen's face to look up at Jared, shaking her head a little as if she's waking up from a dream.

"Hi," she greets him, and Jared nods at her, tight-lipped, his hand still pressed possessively against Jensen's back. "I mean, it's so good to meet you. I'm sorry to be such a goof -- I really do know the difference between fantasy and reality."

"That makes one of us," Jensen mutters softly, and Jared steps right in, covering for him smoothly, like it was all choreographed ahead of time.

"Do you have any shovels?" he asks. "Our car is buried in snow about a mile up the road. We could sure use some shovels to dig it out."

"Oh yeah, of course!" Kathy becomes practical all of a sudden. "I keep a couple in my truck, and Aunt Donna has a couple here -- I'll drive you up."

"Oh, that's not really necessary," Jensen says politely. "We can walk."

"Oh, no, I insist," Kathy says. "It's no trouble at all. And Aunt Donna and I can help dig you out. Won't take any time at all if there's four of us."

"And we're out of gas," Jensen remembers, and Kathy nods.

"Got that, too," she assures him. "Never go anywhere without an extra can of gas in the back. Tools, spark-plugs, battery cables -- extra water, blankets -- Up here you never know when you're gonna get stuck out in the middle of nowhere and need to survive a night in the cab of the truck."

Jensen just nods, Jared rolls his eyes, and they follow Kathy out to her pick-up.

They can't all ride in the cab, so Jared gallantly offers to ride the mile in the truck-bed, after he and Jensen lift the snowmobile out. Donna makes both men borrow her husband's heavy jackets, scarves, and gloves, and Jensen's fine leather boots are so badly damaged Donna insists he wear a pair of her husband's boots too. Otherwise they're both wearing the clothes they came into the house wearing, washed and dried like they never went through a snowstorm in the first place.

It takes them less than an hour to dig out the car, which was buried almost completely in a snowbank after the plows went around it and managed to pile even more snow on top of it. They brush off the roof with the long-handled brushes that Kathy keeps in her truck -- Jensen figures this gal keeps pretty much everything in that truck except maybe the kitchen sink -- and fill the tank with gas, then use Kathy's battery cables to jump start the car's almost-dead battery.

The physical labor warms them up, and the sunshine and sparkling snow make everything look fresh and bright, so that when they're finally ready to say goodbye to Donna and Kathy Jensen is feeling almost euphoric. Donna tries to make them keep the borrowed outerwear, but Jensen insists she take it back, just in case somebody else gets stuck in the snow up here and needs her help the way they did.

Kathy promises to follow them down the mountain, just to be sure they get back to the main road safely. Then Jensen gathers Donna into a hug, thanks her for everything and kisses her wrinkled cheek. She's tiny and birdlike in his arms, almost not even there, like a child, and Jensen's amazed again at the strength and courage of this one little old woman and the miracle of her haven from the storm just being there for them at the last possible moment.

Donna clings tightly to Jensen, prolongs the hug before releasing him. There's a film of tears in her eyes.

"You make me think of my son," she says. "He's an actor too. Always a bright boy, but too much of a risk-taker sometimes. You have that quality too."

She releases Jensen so she can give Jared a hug -- he has to bend almost in half to hug her because she's only about five-foot-two.

"You take care of this one," she says to Jared when she releases him. "I've rarely seen two people as devoted to each other as you two are. It's a gift. Don't waste it."

"We won't," Jared assures her with conviction, glancing at Jensen over her head.

Jensen nods silently, turns to Kathy, who puts her hand out awkwardly. Jensen smiles reassuringly at her and pulls her in for a hug too, and when Jared follows suit he suggests a picture, making Kathy blush because she hadn't wanted to presume --

So they take another minute to pose with Kathy while Donna fiddles with Kathy's phone, taking an awkwardly long time before she figures out how to make it take a picture. Then Jensen asks Kathy to take one of him and Jared with Donna, and she does, promising to email the picture to the address he taps into her phone, since his and Jared's phone are both dead.

Finally, they climb back into the Impala -- Jensen driving this time by silent agreement -- and Donna and Kathy get back into the pick-up truck. The road is packed with plowed snow, so they take it slow, but they're off the mountain within the hour and waving in the rearview mirror to Kathy and Donna as they pull onto the main road, then easily find the little gas station that Kathy recommended.

As Jensen pumps the gas Jared goes into the little convenience store and comes back with a car-charger for their phones, then they take turns making follow-up calls to their families. Jensen also calls Steve, letting him know they're okay, and listens while Chris grabs the phone away and yells at him for being such an idiot as to get lost in a snowstorm.

"And with that asshole Padalecki, goddamn it!" Chris rants, his anger barely masking his underlying relief. "No wonder you got lost. How could you even get into a car with that guy? What were you thinking?"

"It's okay, Chris," Jensen assures him. "We survived. That's the main thing. I'll explain it all later, I promise."

"You better," Chris fumes, but his voice has softened. "Just glad you're alive and in one piece, man."

"Me too," Jensen agrees. "Me too."

He ends the call, puts the phone down, looks up at Jared.

"You didn't tell him," Jared states, and Jensen shakes his head. They're still in the little parking lot of the gas station, engine running to keep the battery from dying and the phone charged.

"We have to tell them," Jared insists. "We have to tell our families. The crew back in Vancouver."

Jensen nods slowly.

"We will," he promises. "I just want to wait until we see them. It'll take some adjusting for my family and friends, not to mention the SPN family."

"You want to go public with this?" Jared's eyes widen. "You want everybody to know about us?"

Jensen takes a deep breath, shakes his head a little.

"I don't want to live a lie anymore, Jared," he says softly. "They'll want us to hide it, to keep them guessing. It's what they always want. As long as nobody knows the truth, everybody can keep their little fantasies."

"Like Destiel," Jared scoffs. "As if."

"Or just us being straight," Jensen shrugs. "I've never come out, Jay. My agent has always advised against it, and I've always listened to him because I needed to work. You, Steve, Chris, my family -- you're the only ones who know for sure. Otherwise it's all just rumor and conjecture."

Jared puts his hand over Jensen's, tangles their fingers together, and Jensen realizes he never wants to be not touching Jared again.

"I'll back you one-hundred percent, whatever you decide to do," Jared says firmly. "I mean it. And if it all goes south -- well, we'll figure something out. We can start a business together. I've got enough saved to get us started doing practically anything. I mean, we always knew this gig couldn't go on forever, right? So even if it ends next year, we can do something else. I never thought I'd keep acting after this anyway."

"Really?" Jensen is stunned. "You'd just chuck it? Not stay in the business at all?"

Jared shrugs.

"Not if it isn't with you," he says without a moment's hesitation. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I love my job. But when I think back over the past ten years, what I think about most is how lucky I was to get to work with you and the rest of the Supernatural cast and crew. It's totally spoiled me for any future gigs; I'd like to think I'm smart enough to just admit that to myself."

Jared takes a deep breath, lets it out, furrows his brow.

"Because it doesn't get any better than this, Jensen, that's the thing I'm pretty damn sure of," Jared goes on. "And there's no repeats. No way am I ever getting another acting job as good as this one, because anything I do from now on would probably be without you. And I don't want to work in this business if I'm not working with you."

Jensen stares at him, still not quite believing what he's hearing.

"Jesus, Jared, that's pretty dramatic," Jensen shakes his head. "I'm not sure I -- "

"I'm pretty sure you just said the same thing, Jen," Jared interrupts. "Of course, there's always the possibility they'll extend the show indefinitely."

"Ha," Jensen feels his face fold into a smile, watches Jared's corresponding grin spread all over his beautiful face. "You know, you really are something. You know that, right?"

"That's exactly what I tell myself every morning when I look in the mirror," Jared deadpans, and Jensen snatches his hand away so he can punch his co-star on the shoulder.

"Fuck you," Jensen says, smiling so broadly it hurts.

"Counting on it," Jared answers, reaching up to slip his hand along Jensen's jaw, curling his fingers around the back of Jensen's neck and leaning in at the same time.

Their lips meet with a shock of actual static electricity, so that the kiss starts with a little sting and a jolt, then quickly evolves into something deep and full of promise. Jensen moans, shifts a little to relieve the sudden ache in his groin. He's never going to not kiss Jared again, he thinks as Jared's tongue sweeps into his mouth.

They manage to keep off of each other long enough to drive to Portland, return the rental car and check into a hotel where they book their flights home. The thought of separating is too much for either of them, so they decide to fly to LA together to visit Jensen's family, then on to Austin to visit Jared's family. Jensen's mother is predictably skeptical about Jared -- she vividly remembers the summer Jensen spent moping and depressed after things went bad between him and Jared six years ago, and although she never knew the details, she couldn't help blaming Jared for doing that to her son. It won't be easy for Jared to win back her trust, but Jensen figures if they can get Mama Ackles on board with this new thing between them, it'll be all down-hill from there.

And Jared is nothing if not determined to show everybody just how committed he is. He's totally ready to admit his past mistake and accept the blame for wrecking things all those years ago.

"I'm just grateful Jensen will still have me, after all that," he tells Mrs. Ackles when they're finally sitting across the table from Jensen's parents in Los Angeles a couple of days later. "I know I don't deserve him. All I can say in my defense is that I was young and stupid, and I made a terrible mistake. I just hope y'all can forgive me."

Donna Ackles purses her lips, doesn't look convinced, and Jensen can see it'll take her awhile, but eventually he's fairly sure she'll see how happy he is and will finally accept Jared, even if she may never quite trust him again.

After the chilly reception in Los Angeles, Jensen finds himself folded into the Padalecki family like he was always part of the tribe. There are cousins and parents and siblings with wives and children and it's a little overwhelming. Jensen finds himself gathered into bear-hug after bear-hug by Jared's tall, enthusiastic family members, and Jared's mother is positively effusive in her relief to see her son finally doing what he should have done in the first place.

"I always knew it," she claims when she corners Jensen in the kitchen where he's come in to help her prepare the food for the huge holiday gathering in their honor that she just threw together at the last minute. 

"From the first time I met you, Jensen, I could see how he looked at you. I could see what you meant to him. He didn't see it, but I did. I always knew you two were made for each other. I always believed it would happen one day."

"Thank you, Mrs. Padalecki," Jensen blushes as he takes the cutting board and vegetables she offers him.

"Sharon," she corrects. "I told you the first time I met you to call me Sharon. We're family. Took long enough, but now we're really family."

She pats him on the cheek, slips an arm around his waist and squeezes, releases him to go back to her salad-making, leaving Jensen to cut up the vegetables.

"He's a stubborn boy," she says conspiratorially, as if she's revealing a deep secret and not simply stating the obvious. "That's why it took him so long to figure out how he really felt. But now the stubborn thing is good because he's true blue all the way, Jensen. Once he makes his mind up like he has about you now, that's it for him. You never have to worry. He's yours for life."

"I hope so," Jensen smiles shyly, meaning it with every fiber of his being.

Later, when Jared's family finally lets them leave, Jensen's so wired and high on all the love and attention he can't come down, so they go out to a bar where there's a band playing, and it turns out Jared knows one of the guys in the band so Jensen finds himself up on the stage after a few drinks, playing guitar and singing along, getting lost in the music the way he loves to do.

And when he looks out at the packed dance-floor he finds Jared right away because he's head-and-shoulders above everyone else and he's standing stock still, just staring at him the way he did that night in Seattle, only now there's such pride and wonder in his face, the kind of stunned realization Jensen still feels whenever he looks over and sees Jared sitting there, remembers with a start that they're together now, he can reach out and take Jared's hand or lean in and kiss Jared and it will be okay. Jared wants him. Jared needs him. Jared loves him.

Jensen is euphoric with a sense of endless possibility, the promise of a future that seems brighter and more glorious than he could have imagined, now that he has Jared. Now that his life is complete.

Finally.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Endings!

After the hiatus Jared and Jensen return to Vancouver together, and it's obvious to everyone what has happened to them.

Not that they've kept it secret. Jensen is adamant on that point, and despite his agent's strong protests, he goes public with their relationship just after the airing of the mid-season finale.

The fans are ecstatic, of course. It's like their greatest fantasy come true, and the tweets of support and congratulations pour in until Twitter has to shut down its servers temporarily so they can figure out a way to accommodate the onslaught. At their first convention appearance after this the fans give them standing ovations, led by Misha Collins, Rob Benedict, and Richard Speight.

The powers-that-be, however, are less pleased. Seems it's not okay for the two co-stars to be gay for each other in real life because they play brothers in the show and incest is really, really not okay on a CW show with a large teenage audience, and the PTB don't seem to be able to separate reality from fiction, so they assume their young audience can't either.

They are renewed for one more year, but with clear indications that Season 11 will be their last.

"I've always wanted to be a vintner," Jared tells Jensen the night they get the news.

They're in bed in their apartment in Vancouver, sipping red wine and watching sports recaps with the sound mostly turned down.

"Yeah, okay," Jensen agrees, taking another sip of his wine. "We can do that."

"The conventions will probably go on for awhile," Jared adds. "There'll be income from that."

"Right," Jensen nods.

"You'll always be able to get work, Jen," Jared says. "There will always be parts available for you, if you want them."

"Maybe," Jensen shrugs. "Probably."

"Plus we can do charity work," Jared suggests. "There are always charities looking for spokespersons. We could do that together. Not much money in it, maybe, but it would be a good thing to do."

"Yep."

Jared sips his wine silently for another minute.

"We should get married," he says softly.

Jensen turns his head at that, raises an eyebrow.

"Come again?"

Jared shrugs.

"I want to," he says simply. "I want everybody to see my ring on your finger. I want everybody to know how much I love you."

"I think we've made it pretty clear, Jared," Jensen notes. "I don't think there's anybody left to tell it to."

Jared shifts uncomfortably, gets that stubborn set to his jaw and that frown that Jensen knows too well.

"I want to be married to you," he insists quietly. "I want it to be official."

Jensen is still looking at him, relishing the warm feeling in his chest that's always there now when he looks at Jared. No more apprehension, no more tension. No more fear or out-right terror of what Jared might do or say --

Although Jared never ceases to surprise him, the way he's doing now.

After the initial shock of their union, it's taken Jensen a few months to become really comfortable with their new relationship. Old habits die hard, and part of him still can't quite believe Jared isn't going to suddenly change his mind and leave.

Not that he'd given any indication of that. On the contrary; Jared has been solicitous, loving, full of devotion and adoration -- not to mention rabidly enthusiastic about everything to do with sex --

It still gives him a little thrill to catch Jared's eye across a room, watch his hazel eyes widen and his face break into a smile. It's still a bit of a shock every time Jared touches him in public, from putting a hand on the small of his back, to leaning over to whisper something intimate into his ear. He still starts a little when Jared's hand closes over his, when Jared comes up behind him and rests his chin on Jensen's shoulder or wraps his arms around him and kisses his ear and jaw. And the first time Jared greeted him in a restaurant with an open-mouthed kiss and a quick squeeze of his ass, grinding into him as he did -- Jensen was so startled all he could do was stare after Jared released him, fighting down the flush in his cheeks as Jared guided him to their table, aware of eyes on them all over the room.

Yeah, this new thing was taking some getting used to.

Not that he's complaining; it definitely beats the way things were before. Openly-affectionate Jared beats pissed-off asshole Jared by about a million to one. And Jensen's learning to trust this new version of the man he's been in love with for as long as he can remember.

It's just different, having Jared actually love him back. Having Jared want to live with him, be with him all the time, even when they're off work.

And now, having Jared want to marry him.

"I'm not gonna say no, Jay," Jensen says now, taking Jared's hand in his and giving it a warm squeeze. "I just think I need a little more adjustment time. I need to take things a little slower than you do. It's the way I'm made."

"I know it is," Jared nods sagely, like he's already thought this through carefully instead of just pulling it out of his ass, as Jensen suspects. "That's why we have a long engagement. Announce it to our families first, wait awhile before we go public. I know my mother, and she's gonna want to plan a big wedding, so -- "

"Wait, so that means you're the girl?" Jensen interrupts, and Jared pulls his hand free so he can punch Jensen's shoulder.

"No! I'm just saying, your mom might not be so keen on wedding-planning, and I know my mom loves to plan parties. She'll be in her element if we let her do this."

He sets his wine-glass down so he can turn completely toward his lover, lean in close for a long, gentle kiss, holding Jensen's face between his huge hands. Jensen relaxes into the kiss, smiles warmly at Jared as he pulls away, damp lips parted and eyes dark with need.

"So what do you say?" Jared breathes, panting a little. "Will you marry me, Jensen Ackles?"

Jensen gazes back, trying to still the pounding of his heart, the slight trembling of his lips as he parts them, lets his tongue swipe along the lower one, fully aware of his effect on Jared even before he sucks in a ragged breath and makes a low moaning noise in this throat.

"Yeah," Jensen whispers, then clears his throat and tries again. "Yeah, Jared, I will."

There's not much talking after that, and Jensen is just fine with that, since having Jared Padalecki and his incredible body all to himself is still something Jensen cannot get enough of.

And he's pretty sure he never will.

*

Things actually end up moving ahead more quickly than Jensen initially intended, and honestly, he's okay with that after all. The engagement parties are a little embarrassing, as is the solid gold ring Jared gives him, but in the end he's just grateful it doesn't have any fruity diamonds or other stones on it and that really it looks pretty basic and masculine for an engagement ring, not showy at all.

Jared knows him, and for that Jensen is more grateful than he wants to admit. 

They get married in a beautiful resort on the Oregon side of the Columbia River Gorge in June. Jensen's family is there, but it's definitely a Padalecki party -- huge and overflowing and joyful. Many of the still-shell-shocked cast and crew of the show attend, still shaking their heads at the insanity that is the Ackles-Padalecki relationship.

Misha Collins contributes a giant ice sculpture in the shape of an erect penis, which is proudly displayed in the center of one of the buffet tables, then tweets selfies licking it to all his followers.

Genevieve Cortese has the good grace to attend, scaring the shit out of Jensen for all of five minutes when he realizes she's in the room before she comes up to him with a little smile and kisses his cheek.

"Told you so," she says smugly, then offers her congratulations to her ex-husband before sauntering off to the bar.

Donna Winchester and her niece are also in attendance, and as soon as she sees him Donna marches right up to Jensen and punches him on the arm.

"Ow!" he stares at her. "What was that for?"

"For all the stuff, Romeo!" she says, referring to the gifts Jensen and Jared had sent, after checking with Kathy to find out what Donna needed, namely a new generator, new dishwasher, new washer and dryer, and a new snow-blower. "You don't just buy a girl a bunch of stuff! Who do you think you are?"

"You can sell it," Jensen assures her. "It's yours. For saving our lives. Not that we can ever repay you for that -- "

"Exactly," she snaps. "A simple 'thank you' is worth a million dollars worth of stuff, Pretty Boy."

"Thank you, Mrs. Winchester, really," Jensen says, putting on his most sincere smile.

"It's Donna," she says sharply. "And you don't have to thank me. You never did."

Then she hugs Jared, tells them to take care of each other, and wanders off toward the buffet table, eyeing the ice sculpture critically.

*

Jared and Jensen slip away quietly before the party's over, take the elevator to their suite, turn off the lights and open the curtains of the floor-length windows with the stunning view of the Columbia River. They stand shoulder-to-shoulder for a moment, sharing a bottle of champagne, just admiring the view. It's dark, but the night is full of stars and the lawn spreads out far and wide toward the river and the dark hills on the other side, giving the scene a deceptively quiet stillness that stands in stark contrast to the activity and noise of the day they've just had. Jared slips his hand into Jensen's and they stand like that for another minute, until Jensen makes the first move.

Turning slightly toward his husband he raises his glass in salute.

"Congratulations, Mr. Ackles-Padalecki," he smiles up at Jared, whose eyes are glistening in the gloom.

"Congratulations to you as well, Mr. Ackles-Padalecki," Jared returns, and they clink glasses and take a sip, stare shyly at each other for another moment.

"We don't really have to use that long hyphenated name, do we?" Jensen asks "I always hated hyphenated names."

Jared grins broadly. "Nope. I'm taking yours. It's already legal."

"No way," Jensen stares, shocked. "You signed the marriage certificate like that?"

"Yep," Jared confirms. "You didn't even notice, huh?"

Jensen stares another minute, then feels his face warm into a smile.

"Which proves once and for all that you really are the girl," he grins up at Jared.

"Which explains the big dick," Jared nods. "And all the topping."

"Shut up!" Jensen grouses. "I top!"

Jared tilts his head skeptically.

"I do!" Jensen insists. "You just don't like to bottom, that's all."

"Good thing you don't have that problem," Jared teases, and Jensen flushes to the roots of his hair. "Of course, I'm pretty new to the whole gay sex thing."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jensen demands.

"Well, I'm just saying the bottoming thing might grow on me if we practice a little more," Jared suggests tentatively.

"Really?" Jensen stares, catches Jared's eye, and they both collapse into laughter, vividly recalling Jared's one and only attempt to bottom over the past six months of their sex-life, at his complete and utter inability to keep still enough to let Jensen lick him, much less stick anything into his ass. It was definitely a comedy neither of them is quite ready to repeat.

"Or not," Jared gasps when he can finally grab a breath again.

Once they're both calm again Jensen deliberately puts their glasses down and reaches up to loosen Jared's tie, slipping it loose and batting Jared's hands away as he started to unbutton his shirt.

"Nope," Jensen says firmly. "It's our wedding night and I'm going to undress you."

"Okay," Jared breathes, and it obviously takes him considerable effort to stand still while Jensen removes his tie, then his shirt, sliding it down over his shoulders with deliberate slowness. He lets Jared unbutton his own cuffs -- or rather, remove the gold cufflinks since this is a tux and yeah.

"Lift your arms," Jensen instructs when he starts to lift Jared's tee-shirt, revealing just an inch or two of belly at first, then working the tee-shirt up, up till he's pulling it over Jared's head, messing his hair and making it stick up all over. Jared shakes his head like a wet dog when the tee-shirt joins his dress-shirt on the floor, and starts to reach up to run his hands through his hair to smooth it down but Jensen grabs his hands.

"Stop," he insists. "Let me."

And he can see the tension in Jared's shoulders, the effort it takes him not to reach up and do it himself as Jensen slips his fingers through Jared's long mane of hair, combing it down so it lies fairly flat, tucks it behind his ears. He leaves his hands on Jared's face after, thumbing his cheekbones, staring into Jared's warm hazel eyes, lowering his gaze to Jared's parted pink lips before pulling his face down so he can kiss them, stepping right up against Jared's bare chest as he does. His own crisp white dress shirt slides along Jared's tan skin with a vague rustling sound as Jared's arms wrap around him, holding him close as they kiss, slow, languid, meaningful. They've got all night, and Jensen's determined to make it a memorable one, force Jared to drag out every moment, not just charge through it like he usually does.

And Jared is teachable, that much has become clear over the past few months. He may have started out their personal life together with something like a bull-in-a-china-shop attitude, crashing around almost blindly in his eagerness and excitement, always demanding and rarely listening when Jensen tells him to take it slow, draw it out, take it in.

Just be in the moment.

But lately he's gotten better. He waits with something akin to patience sometimes when Jensen asks him to, he lets Jensen just remove all of the gadgets, turn off the t.v., sit quietly with him and watch the snow fall or the fire burning, just reflect, bask in each other's companionship and their shared gratitude to have found each other, to be together.

Now when Jensen pulls back, ends the kiss and takes a step back so he can return to undressing the taller man, Jared lets him, kicks off his shoes as Jensen reaches for the clasp on his trousers, slides the zipper down slowly, reaches his hands under the waistband to push the material down over Jared's hips, letting the trousers pool on the floor at his ankles, followed by his boxer briefs.

"On the bed," Jensen growls, sliding his hands over Jared's generous pecs and giving him a little push.

Jared obeys eagerly, spreads himself out on his back across the bed, watching Jensen with his beautiful slanted eyes. Jensen climbs onto the bed after him, still fully clothed, and straddles Jared's hips, taking one huge wrist in each hand and bending his arms at the elbow as he leans down to capture Jared's mouth with his.

Jared bucks up against him, dick already hard and throbbing, seeking friction as Jensen kisses him, holding his wrists next to his head. But Jensen keeps his body carefully elevated, doesn't sink down on top of Jared, keeping his wrists clasped in Jensen's hands as he deepens the kiss, making Jared moan with need.

Jensen releases Jared's mouth and kisses down his jaw, sucks and licks and lets his teeth scrape the stubble there, dips his tongue into the cleft of Jared's chin.

"Fuck, Jensen, let me touch you," Jared gasps, hips bucking up and head tipping back so Jensen has access to his gorgeous neck.

Jensen smiles against Jared's skin, hums deep in his throat as he runs his tongue along the shell of Jared's ear, feeling him shiver.

"Do you trust me?" he rumbles low into Jared's ear, eliciting another shiver, another gasp.

"Do you?" Jensen squeezes Jared's wrists, takes his earlobe into his mouth and sucks, then bites down a little for emphasis.

"Yes," Jared breathes out. "Yeah, I do."

And Jensen just has to kiss him again for that, long and deep and hard, so that his head's spinning a little when he finally pulls back, breathing hard.

"Stay like that," he orders, squeezing Jared's wrists again. "Stay."

Jared's face is flushed and beautiful, his eyelids fluttering, pink lips parted and swollen, dizzied by Jensen's attention. He manages a short nod, swallows and licks his lips, opens his eyes to gaze up at Jensen as the older man releases his wrists, satisfied that Jared will obey his order. Jensen holds Jared's gaze as he straightens up and reaches for his own tie, slowly loosening it, then pulling it free as he reaches for Jared's wrists, wraps the silk tie around one, then the other wrist, binding them together over Jared's head. He ties the end to the bed springs, laying almost completely on top of Jared has he does so, and Jared stays still the whole time, bucking only a little when Jensen's clothed body comes in contact with his engorged cock, gasping Jensen's name as he does.

Once Jensen's tested the knot he leans back to get a good look at Jared's bound form, decides it's the sexiest damn thing he's ever seen. Jared strains against the knot a little, gets this wide-eyed deer-in-the-headlights look when he realizes he's actually stuck -- the knot's holding pretty well -- and Jensen smiles, watching Jared's muscles tense and ripple and release, the veins on his arms bulging and relaxing again.

Yep, definitely hot.

"What're you gonna do?" Jared asks, a little breathless after his efforts to free himself.

"Gonna fuck you," Jensen says, keeping his voice low and intense. "And this time, you're gonna let me."

"God," Jared exhales, cheeks flushing as his eyes flutter closed, squirming uncontrollably. He buries his face in his arm as his hips surge up off the bed, make contact with Jensen's spread thighs.

Jensen backs off the bed, watches Jared as he undresses, waits till Jared's looking before he licks his lips, holding Jared's gaze the entire time, so that the younger man gasps and bucks up, eyes slipping closed again so he misses Jensen's triumphant smile.

Once he's naked, Jensen begins a slow seduction of Jared's entire body, working his way down from his neck with his hands and mouth, stealing long, languid kisses from his lips, teasing his nipples with his tongue and teeth, mouthing a trail down his chest, sliding his hands along the smooth, silken skin over his ribcage. When he finally settles between Jared's spread legs he takes his time, sucking into the crease of his groin, taking sharp little nips along his inner thighs, making Jared gasp. He takes his time, leaves Jared's cock and balls untouched until he's covered every other inch of skin with his mouth and tongue, sucking and biting and licking thoroughly, pushing Jared's bent knees back so he can lick below his balls, thoroughly ministering to the sensitive skin of his crack, around his hole before licking back up to his balls, sucking on them for awhile as Jared moans and writhes, then kneeling up between his legs and catching Jared's eye as he takes his dick between his lips.

"Aw, fuck!" Jared exhales as Jensen sucks him down, deep-throating expertly because he can and he knows he's pretty fuckin' awesome at this and he's proud of it, even while his jaw aches and his eyes smart with tears.

Jared tries to watch because it's his favorite thing ever, or so he tells Jensen every time he does it -- but he's already so sensitized he has to concentrate on not coming as soon as Jensen's mouth is on his dick, so he squeezes his eyes closed and hisses and writhes and mostly just comes completely apart under Jensen's mouth and hands, which was the idea in the first place so it's all good.

After the blow-job it still takes a lot of tonguing to get Jared loose and relaxed enough to take Jensen's lubed fingers, then the head of Jensen's dick, but Jensen is patient and persistent, and when Jensen's fingers finally rub against Jared's prostate he gives a satisfying jerk and curses a bloody streak, legs falling open in invitation, giving in completely to sensation as Jensen had suspected he would if he could just get past those initial Padalecki defenses.

"Knew it," Jensen murmurs as he caresses Jared's nipple with his tongue, feeling it bead as he pulls it into his mouth, then tugs gently with his teeth. "So sensitive."

He's holding himself still, just inside Jared's body, waiting for him to adjust, giving Jared a chance to tense up and resist.

When he doesn't, just spreads himself even wider, surges up into Jensen's mouth, the older man slides in, slow and careful, working Jared's chest and throat with his mouth, stroking long, soothing caresses up his sides, up to Jared's bound arms. And when he bottoms out and he's balls deep inside Jared he captures Jared's pink mouth again, swallowing his little gasping breaths and caressing his jaw as he kisses him, deep and possessing. Jared starts a little as he tastes himself on Jensen's tongue, then he feels Jared's dick swelling against his belly and he smiles against Jared's mouth, taking almost as much pleasure in Jared's surrender as he does in the feel of Jared's tight heat around his dick.

"Gonna release you now," Jensen murmurs against Jared's mouth, reaching up to untie the knot that started the lesson, finally letting Jared touch him. "You did good."

He pulls back a little after Jared's arms come down around him, thrusting slowly in and out of Jared's tight hole as Jared's hands move over body, then slide up to hold his head so he can watch Jensen's face as his orgasm builds. Jared cries out as Jensen's dick hits his prostate, throwing his head back and closing his eyes against the sudden spine-melting pleasure that he's feeling for the first time in his life. And watching it happen -- knowing he's the one putting that look on Jared's face, just giving him this new experience that is so intense and real and almost unbearable -- Jensen feels such love for Jared it makes his chest swell and his dick twitch and he's done.

Not even fully aware of doing it as his orgasm surges through him, Jensen rears up and goes completely rigid, uttering a single choked syllable as he comes and comes and comes, harder than he can remember ever coming before, the knowledge of Jared's trust and love for him making the moment almost too much.

Later, after they clean up and lie curled around each other in the dark, naked and warm and sleepy, Jared huffs out a laugh, curling his fingers in Jensen's hair.

"What?" Jensen opens his eyes, smiles at Jared's wide-eyed gaze. Jared looks so young in the dim light, like that boy Jensen first fell in love with all those years ago, that fresh-faced kid with all of his innocent belief in life, in the world, in Jensen. Just trusting that good things would always happen for him. And Jensen remembers wishing he could keep him that way, safe from pain or disappointment or unhappiness, just keep Jared smiling his wide-eyed, dimpled smile forever.

"It's our wedding night," Jared grins.

Jensen smiles wider, nods, wiggles down into the mattress a little, closes his eyes.

"Yeah," he agrees, feeling ridiculously proud of himself suddenly.

He feels Jared's expectant gaze on him, so he cracks open an eye.

"What?" he asks again, watches Jared shake his head a little.

"Well, that was my first time," he says like it should be obvious and Jensen's just being deliberately dense.

Jensen blinks, honestly taken aback, because it just hadn't occurred to him that Jared could be so old-fashioned.

It's cute, he decides immediately. Definitely cute.

"Yeah," Jensen agrees. "I'm awesome."

Jared blushes, lowers his eyes and grins broadly enough to light the whole room.

"You're an asshole," he breathes with a slight shake of his head.

"Yeah, but I'm _your_ asshole, and you're my blushing bride," Jensen snarks back, grinning so hard his face hurts.

"Oh my god, you're so dead for calling me that," Jared breathes, grabbing Jensen to tickle him before he can get away, sending them both rolling across the bed, grabbing at each other's ribs and armpits and ticklish surfaces until they're both gasping and breathless with laughter.

All of which ends in more sex, of course, which is entirely appropriate, since it's their wedding night.

And Jensen decides he really wouldn't have it any other way.

*

He dreams he's in a diner in New Mexico, sitting across the table from Sam Winchester, who is going on and on about his latest research on a new hybrid monster that eats cattle but leaves the hearts.

"It's like a cross between a chupacabra and a werewolf," Sam is saying as he takes another bite from his plate of rice and beans and some kind of burrito thing covered in green enchilada sauce.

Jensen looks down at his own plate, notes the remains of a beef burrito smothered in sour cream, pushes it away in disgust.

That's when he notices his hands. The strange callouses, the scarred knuckles, the silver ring on the right one -- they're the hands of a man who's spent his life doing hard physical labor.

They're Dean Winchester's hands.

"What's wrong?" Sam asks, noticing the way Jensen is staring at his hands with what must be a look of surprise. "Dean? What's wrong?"

He looks up at Sam, stares at him helplessly, and in that way that only happens in dreams, Sam gets it. Understands what's happened, knows who he is.

"Jensen?"

He doesn't seem upset, doesn't look worried or freaked out, just a little surprised as Jensen nods.

"Hi Sam."

"What are you doing here?" Sam asks, then interrupts himself. "Wait, how are you here?"

"You tell me," Jensen shakes his head a little. "I was asleep -- it's my wedding night. I must be dreaming. Although I have to say, this is more of a nightmare."

But Sam doesn't get all freaky, doesn't seem nearly as worried or concerned as Jensen thinks he should be if this were real. In fact, Sam smiles a little and shakes his head.

Yep, definitely a dream.

"Wedding night, huh?" Sam repeats. "So -- everything worked out with you and -- that Polish actor?"

Jensen grins, relaxing a little. It's just a dream. Gonna wake up. Nothin' to worry about. Not stuck here.

"Yeah," he confirms. "Me and Fake You were officially married today. Gonna live happily ever after, goddamn it."

Sam's still smiling softly, looks down at his food, then up out the window.

"That's good," he says, nodding. "I'm glad it worked out."

"How 'bout you, Sam?" Jensen asks. "Everything okay? I guess you got your brother back."

Sam lifts his eyebrows, takes a deep breath, huffs it out as he raises his eyes to Jensen again.

"Yeah, I did," he confirms. "No thanks to you, though. Took me another six months after you left before he came back."

"He came back?" Jensen repeats, frowning.

"Yep," Sam nods. "Decided he couldn't live without me after all, what d'ya know?"

"No surprise there," Jensen nods. "But what about the demon thing? He cured now?"

"Not exactly," Sam frowns a little. "He's still demonic, still has the Mark, but it's manageable. It's something we can deal with."

"Huh," Jensen purses his lips doubtfully. "Not exactly the way things worked out in our world."

"Yeah, well, in your world our lives are just a t.v. show," Sam reminds him. "This is real. Things are different here."

Jensen has to concede the point, nods, realizes he doesn't really want all the details anyway.

He gazes at Sam silently for a moment as Sam takes another bite of his food, sips his beer.

"You look good, Sam," he comments.

Sam looks up at him sharply, then his face softens and he blushes a little and lowers his gaze.

"Thanks," he says. "So do you."

They sit in companionable silence for a minute, and Jensen wonders why he hasn't woken up yet.

Then he remembers he has something to tell Sam.

"They canceled the show," Jensen reveals, and Sam looks up in surprise.

"Oh no," he says. "I'm sorry. You're gonna be looking for work again." And I put that tattoo on your chest, Jensen can see Sam thinking but not saying.

Jensen grins, shakes his head.

"Doesn't matter," he says. "Jared and I will figure something out. He wants to start a winery. Grow grapes. We've got our eye on a bit of acreage out in Eastern Washington. It's miles from anything, but there's a little airport in Walla Walla, so we're good. I'll probably still manage to land some guest starring jobs if I want them, and I've had a standing invitation to join a friend's folk-rock band, so maybe now's my chance to really give that a shot. I'm still fairly young, time enough to start a new career if I want. I've been insanely lucky so far, and I never imagined the show would go on as long as it has, so I really can't complain."

Sam is looking at him, his gaze fond and soft.

"You've changed," Sam says. "You're more confident. More sure of yourself. It suits you."

Jensen nods.

"I guess we've all changed," he agrees.

The waitress comes up, offers them more coffee and water, asks about dessert, and Jensen orders a piece of blueberry pie because he suspects Dean would appreciate it and he's not planning to stay.

"I know I messed things up for you and Dean, and I'm sorry for that," he tells Sam after the waitress leaves again. "But I gotta say, coming here and facing this place for a week and a half -- well, it was no picnic, that's for sure. But it showed me I could survive something pretty traumatic, and yeah -- I think it changed me. I think I'm a stronger person for having been here. With you. I'm probably a better man than I was before. So -- so thanks, Sam."

Sam shifts uncomfortably, looks down at his plate.

"You don't have to say that," he mutters, pushing the food around with his fork.

"Yeah," Jensen argues. "Yeah, I do. And I mean it. I'll always be grateful to you, Sam Winchester, for saving my life. And you know what? There's a lot of people in this world who would say that to you, if they had the chance. Don't ever think there isn't."

Sam lifts his eyes, gives Jensen that skeptical, half-hurt expression that is so uniquely Sam it makes Jensen's chest hurt.

"And your brother is one lucky guy," Jensen adds, because he knows Dean. Knows he doesn't tell Sam enough how much he means to him. How important Sam is. "And don't worry, he knows he's a lucky bastard, just for having you. You're more than he deserves, and he knows it."

"Dean is a hero," Sam argues. "He's my hero. He faces everything head on, never stops or breaks down or takes a break, just keeps working to make the world a little better, a little safer for everybody except himself. He's the most self-less person I know. He gives and gives and gives, and the world just piles more shit on him and he keeps on giving anyway."

Sam takes a deep breath, shakes his head a little as if he's not used to expressing himself so passionately, and Jensen loves him for it, loves that Sam can lose himself in talking about the thing that means the most to him.

"The least I can do is to support him," Sam goes on. " To always have his back. It's the very least I can do for a man who's given everything."

"Not everything," Jensen reminds him. "He has you. And for Dean, you are everything."

Sam stares at him for a moment, then shakes his head again as if he's clearing it.

"I feel like I'm supposed to kiss you now," Sam says, the corners of his mouth turning up just a little as he ducks his head almost shyly.

Jensen shakes his head, grinning despite himself.

"Well, that's the way the scene ends in a typical romantic comedy," he agrees. "But you and Dean aren't exactly a typical romantic couple, so -- " His grin widens. "Besides, I'm a married man now."

"Go home to your husband, Jensen," Sam says softly. "Your work here is done."

And just like that -- and when he remembers the dream in the morning Jensen swears it was a magical event somehow conjured by Sam maybe, however accidentally, or maybe some residual after-effect of his earlier visit to Sam's world -- Jensen's home again, without even having to tap his ruby slippers together or anything.

Because if he really thinks about it hard enough, Jensen has to admit that Kansas isn't such a bad place after all. Or anywhere ordinary and natural, as a matter of fact, as long as Jared's there.

As long as Jared and Jensen are together, as they were always meant to be. Maybe they're not hunting things and saving people, but they kind of saved each other, and really that's not such a small thing.

That's not nothing at all, Jensen decides as he watches his husband take a sip of his coffee while he checks out the latest news and sports on his laptop, the morning sun on his hair making some of the strands look dark red and lustrous, his eyes full of color.

Jared looks up, catches his eye, and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> 'What a Fool Believes" by the Doobie Brothers is a song about love and the lies we tell ourselves when we can't (or won't) face the truth. It just seemed to fit.


End file.
